The Seed of Evil
by Eris Perap
Summary: In the late 1960s, 19 year old university student Reginald Bushroot was striving for a world of peace and love. But when an opposition against a chemical corporation goes extremely wrong he begins questioning his view on the world and where the line between good and evil really goes. Rated T for violence.
1. The Idealist and the Realist

**1\. The Idealist and the Realist**

The sun shone bright against the clear cerulean blue sky, spreading its rays over the peaceful city of St. Canard. The city's residents welcomed its lovely afternoon heat after a long hard day at work or in school. The same goes for the students at the city's university. In the semi-dry grass outside the big white dazzling university building, young hippies, wearing headbands and colorful clothes bought at second hand, relaxed and took the opportunity to enjoy the last days of summer. A troubadour in the area filled the air with soothing tones of psychedelic music from his guitar that spread love and joy to every ear they reached. A cool breeze swept past the trees thin twigs and made the leaves rustle.

It was a beautiful day to spend outdoors in Mother Nature's rich amazing environment. Or to spend inside in peace and take the opportunity to use the school's for the moment almost empty library, something a certain duck had chosen to do it this time. Dust particles was noticeably seen dancing in the light that streamed in through the big windows near one of the rectangular tables there the young mallard sat by, trying to make out the black text in his textbook. He was dressed in an olive green worn polo shirt with a blue-and-yellow flower embroidered on the left chest. The forehead was adorned with a thin purple headband, which was somewhat hidden under the shaggy hairstyle.

His name was Reginald Bushroot and was a sophomore student in the university's biology program. The book he was reading was about nutrient absorption in plants. Plants had always fascinated Reginald. Their incredible ability to produce their own energy, the beauty and fragility in their exterior, plus the fact that all life on Earth depends on their existence. That's why he had chosen to devote his life to them.

You could say that Reginald sure was living in the right decade. Never before in history had so many people started to show interest in nature and the planet's future. Finally the society was starting to revolutionize against all the pollutions and toxic wastes that was destroying nature, and ourselves. After all, if nature disappears all the life would do that too.

As a young hippie and environmentalist, Reginald was eager to do everything to make the world a better place to live. Therefore, he had joined an organization called O.P.A.L. (Organization of Peace and Love) that was led by a highly respected 27-year-old anthropomorphic Sacred Birman cat named Lucas Whiskers. Lucas Whiskers was Reginald's biggest idol, and St. Canard's most well-known activist. Thanks to his leadership, the association had managed to make some radical changes in the city during the recent years. Not only had they managed to educate more people about more environmentally friendly alternatives, they had also succeeded in stopping a number of industrial companies from producing or using toxic chemicals or radioactive substances. On top of that, Lucas was also a very nice, optimistic and friendly person, although he seemed to have little difficulty in remembering Reginald's name. But with over three hundred supporters, that might not be so surprising, especially considering that a simple person like Reginald was pretty easily overseen.

Joining O.P.A.L. had indeed been one of the best choices in Reginald's life. Throughout his whole school years he had always been seen as "the weak and geeky nerd" and had therefor never really had any real friends. The only living creatures that he used to hang out with were the plants. But after he had started at the university and joined the organization, things had changes. For the first time in his life he felt that he belonged somewhere, in a community. No one in the organization made fun of him or was mean to him. No, among the Opals everyone were friends and everybody respected and supported each other.

Reginald had long yearned to contribute with something for the organization, something that could benefit everyone including the association. Or at least something that could make their great leader to remember his name. Therefore, he had chosen to engage himself in their present opposition against the company Ajax Chemicals. Lucas had for a long period suspected that the company was using direct harmful substances in their products that not only might be dangerous for the environment but also for people's health. Unfortunately, they'd never managed to obtain enough evidence to sue the company and stop their productions. Therefore, they were now preparing a plan to infiltrate the area so they could do more thoroughly analyzes. In other words, they were going to break into the building and obtain the incriminating evidences to bring the company down. Since Lucas needed at least two people in the operation that were knowledgeable in chemistry and/or biochemistry Reginald had for once chosen to step out of his safe little corner and show his best side by signing up as a volunteer. However, he would probably never _ever_ have done it if it hadn't been for… her…

Her name was Rhoda Dendron and she was in the same program as Reginald. She was as beautiful as the flower she was named after, if not more. She was the most kind-hearted and caring person he had ever met, aside from Lucas possibly. Unlike all the other girls, and, well, other people in general, Rhoda seemed to at least notice him. Lovely little Rhoda… Since the two of them studied the same courses and had done a few laboratory practicals together, they had gotten to know each other and came along very well. Still, Reginald had yet never gotten the courage to ask her out. After all, why would someone like him ever have a chance on someone like her? He was a nobody while she was… well everything. But… if he could prove himself worthy… Then maybe she would start liking him. That's why, when he heard that Rhoda had assigned for Lucas's coup, he had chosen to volunteer as well. This was his big chance! Both to impress Rhoda _and_ to get the great Lucas to notice him.

Anxiously, Reginald sighed and drummed a little stressed with his fingers on the table. To say he was nervous about the coup, which would be implemented this evening, was rather an understatement. Maybe it was a bad idea to sign up anyway, he thought. If they got exposed, there was of course a huge risk for him to lose his scholarship at the school, which meant he wouldn't be able to afford finishing the education. He was putting his whole future at stake after all. Then again, he really wanted to help out making a change to the world and show what he was made of. He might never get another chance.

He shook his head a little, trying to shake off the nervousness, before burying his bill into the book again to continue reading about the osmosis' role in plants water transport system. To work with his favorite hobby usually had a calming effect on him. It was a good way to screen himself off from reality and all its unpleasantness for a while. However, it seemed like reality had gotten a really good grip on him this day.

Okay, easy now Reggie, there is nothing to worry about, he tried to convince himself. It's not like we're going to _steal_ anything or so. We're just going to get inside, take a few pictures with the camera, and then leave. It's for a good cause. Besides, Lucas will be there, and he always knows what he's doing. And Rhoda will be there. This is my big chance to show her, and everyone else, that I'm not a coward.

No, I can do this, I'm not afraid, he thought encouraging for himself. I'm no coward, I am brave! I'm a man!

SCHLOOM!

"YIKES!"

His heart almost jumped out of his chest when a stack of books slammed down all of a sudden right next to him on the table.

"Whoa… Talk about being jumpy."

To the right, he was met by a quite perplexed, yet pretty amused, brown-beige dog with a big nose and long hanging black ears. He was wearing a brown suite on top of a yellow shirt and blue tie. His black hair, which shone slightly in a navy blue shimmer, was almost too perfectly parted in the middle and made Reginald wonder if he hadn't used a ruler to get it right.

"Huh? I-I wasn't scared. I just got… startled. I didn't noticed you coming", the duck claimed, still a bit in shock.

"Hey, are you waiting for someone or is it okay if I take this seat?" the dog asked with his hand resting on the backrest of the chair next to Reginald.

"No. Er…! I meant no to that I'm not waiting for someone! The seat is free! You can have it", Reginald explained hasty when realizing that the dog had asked two questions in the same sentence.

"Okay, good!" the dog said and pulled out the chair, which made a shuffling noise against the floor, and sat down. Then he grabbed the top book in his pile and started turning the pages. Reginald returned to his own book.

"So, what are you studying?" the dog suddenly asked after a while.

"Uh, well, I'm studying to become a botanist", Reginald told, unsure whether he should point out that they actually were in a library. Not that there really was anyone else there besides them and the sleeping librarian, who was leaning over the counter far by the entrance.

"Aha, what's that?" the canine asked.

"Someone who's doing researches in plants", he explained short.

"Okay… Heeey! _Now_ I know who you are! You're that weird flower-dude who lives in a greenhouse!" the dog exclaimed and pointed, suddenly recalling, at the duck.

"Uh… yes, I do live in a greenhouse", Reginald said a bit confounded.

"Yeah, that's typically you hippies. You live in the weirdest lodges. In tents or vans, or greenhouses."

"Well, it is a good way to avoid the polluted air of the city while also growing your own _ecological_ crops", Reginald pointed out proud. "Besides, the rent is cheep."

"Well, considering how your future is going to look like I guess you're probably doing right to think economical, hehe!" the dog said and laughed teasing.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Reginald asked a bit puzzled.

"No, I'm just saying there's no particular profit in plants", the dog said and shrugged.

"Excuse me, but it happens to be thanks to the plants that we even exist!" Reginald pointed out quite insulted.

"Maybe, but there's no money in it. People aren't interested investing in plants."

"Then you obviously don't know _everybody_ ", Reginald said sour. "What are _you_ reading by the way?"

"Financing and marketing. You happen to be looking at Bud Flud, the future president of Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water", he said, proudly pointing at himself with his thumb. "As soon as I graduate I'm going to be an employee of my father's company and make lots of money."

"Oh! I see! You're one of those jerks who helps the society to make the already rich big shots to become even richer by fooling the poor wretches to become even poorer."

"Exactly!" Bud said unabashed, fully aware of the sarcasm in the duck's tone.

"You know, selling bottle-water to people who live in countries with access to clean tap water is just like selling snow to an Eskimo, or sand to a Bedouin. It's completely stupid! Not to mention wasteful!" Reginald opined, a little outraged.

"It's not about _what_ you sell, it's _how_ you sell it", Bud explained. "With right tactics and convinces you can trick people into buy _anything_. Heh! I swear, when I've finished my studies here I bet I'll probably be able to sell _air_ to people."

"HA! I don't have to _buy_ your air. I've already got plants that can produce oxygen for me _for free_ ", Reginald remarked shrewd.

Bud frowned and thoughtfully scratched his chin a little.

"You know, that's actually not bad thinking", he admitted quite impressed. "I think you might be on to something here."

"You're unbelievable!" Reginald said disgusted.

"I know!" Bud said haughty, fully aware of the true meaning in the duck's words.

"I didn't mean it in a _good_ way", Reginald, who didn't really get Bud's witticism, explained flat. "You know, there are actually more important things in life than money."

"What a typical treehugger-thing to say", Bud said nonchalant. "Heh! With your love for trees maybe you should be careful so you won't become one with nature _literally_ one day. Hahaha!"

Grr!

Reginald felt his usually inexhaustible patience beginning to run out.

"You know what? That _greed_ of yours is one day going to take over you to that point that you won't even be able to tell your own _reflection_ in the mirror!" the water fowl snapped sour.

"Well, at least I'll be rich", Bud said and smirked.

Aggravated, Reginald took hold of each side of the cover of his own open book and closed it to a half-loud slam. Then he stood up from the chair, taking the book under his arm.

"You have to excuse me, Mr. Future-President-Flud, but I think I better get home now", he said sarcastic. "I've got plants to water."

"Hey! You could buy some water from Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water", Bud suggested teasing. "If you're really nice I just might help you get a discount. I've got connections you know."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be just fine _without_ your help", Reginald said before enraged making his way towards the exit. Man! What a jerk!

The floor shook slightly under the duck's loudly angry stomping webbed feet, waking the slumbering librarian.

"Huh? H-Hey! No loud noises in the library!"


	2. You Say You Want a Revolution?

**2\. You Say You Want a Revolution?**

"Ugh, I feel like a burglar", Rhoda said, beginning to have second thoughts, and rubbed her over arms with her hands to get warm in the chilly night air.

"Ha! Believe me darling, this is _nothing_ compared to what I've been through in my life", Femme Appeal, a young fox girl, said while trying to pick the lock to the big metal gate in front of them in the light from Lucas's flashlight.

Femme was a former thief that Lucas had taken under his wings and helped to become law-abiding. However, her skills sure proved to be very useful in a situation like this.

Rhoda sighed.

"I can't believe I actually got talked into this thing", she said ashamed.

"To be honest, I'm not a big fan of having to sink to this level either", Lucas admitted, "but I would never have suggested it if I didn't consider it necessary."

"Pft! C'me on! This ain't even a _real_ crime. We're not gonna steal anything", Femme said frivolously.

"No, exactly! There you see, sweetie, there's absolutely nothing to worry about", Castor McQuack, a big pelican, said and casually put his arm around Rhoda's shoulders.

Reginald resentfully clenched his gloved fists by the sight, making the fabric stretch by the knuckles. Castor might not be muscular in the same way as an athlete, but at least enough to make Reginald look like a wuss. Out of all the engineering students in the organization, why did it just _have to_ have been _he_ who had chosen to join them for the operation tonight? That Casanova was just as unbearable and tormenting as the painful slow-killing poisonous beans from the plant that he shared his name with.

"Uh… thanks…", Rhoda said and bothered lifted the big hand off her shoulder.

A click was finally heard from the lock and the five youths watched the great gate slowly open up to a creaking noise, which sounded quite eerie in the quiet dark night.

"There you go! Well, Lucas, aren't you a lucky cat having an ex-convict on your side, huh?" Femme asked self-content and proudly held up the shining lock pick in front of them.

"Yeah yeah, well done," Lucas said, a little stressed, and handed over one of the two maps he was holding, which showed the area, to Castor. "Okay, you all remember your parts, right? Femme and Castor enter first to disarm the alarms and take care of the surveillance cameras. Afterwards, you contact us on the walkie-talkie so that Rhoda, Reynold and I can make our ways to the laboratory area and collect evidence. As soon as we are finished, we contact you and Fethry so we can get out of here. We also contact in case if any of us would get in trouble. Alright, any questions?"

"Uh…"

Reginald uncertainly lifted his index finger in the air.

"Yes?" Lucas asked him.

"Reginald."

"What?" the cat asked, totally confused.

"My name is _Reginald_ ", the mallard told firm in a friendly way.

"OHH…! Aha! Wait, it is? Well then, I _sincerely_ apologize", the white-and-gray Birman said regardfully. "Okay, but everything else is clear, right?"

" _Yes!_ Jeez! We've already been through this, like, a million times", Femme reminded, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, right! Well, we'll hear from you two soon then!" Lucas said to Femme and Castor. "Good luck my friends!"

"You too!" Femme called and rushed into the yard.

"And _I'll_ see _you_ later", Castor said flirting to Rhoda.

Grr!

"Hey! Are you coming today or not, dummy?!" Femme called at him, annoyed.

"Yes, I'm coming!" the dummy called and ran after her.

"Okay… now the first squad has been put in action", Lucas mumbled noting, to no one specific. Then he went over to his backpack, which was leaning against the stonewall by the end of which one of the gate doors was attached to. The cat gently put down the other map and his flashlight on the ground before going through the other stuff inside the bag. "You two! Get over here, please!"

The two ducks did as he said and walked over.

"Take these", he said and handed them two flashlights. "Rhoda, I want you to be in charge of the map." Lucas handed the map to Rhoda. "And Reginald, you are going to be responsible for the camera. It _was_ Reginald, right?"

"Yes", the duck told and nodded, happy that their leader remembered it for once.

The cat reached down again and carefully picked up the blackish gray camera.

"Be careful with it. Remember, we only have one", Lucas asked him to and looked serious at him with his perfect deep-blue eyes, which along with his blue purple-striped bandana and light-blue-and-white batik shirt made the silver-gray fur on his ears and in his tabby patterned face seem rather gray-bluish.

"Absolutely! No problem!" Reginald averred, thrilled over that the great leader entrusted him with such an important task, and received the somewhat heavy devise. He placed the camera strap around his neck and corrected so that the collar of his shirt lay over it.

"Okay, then I'm just going to check with Fethry as well", Lucas said and picked up the walkie-talkie from the bag, "and make sure he hasn't fallen asleep."

Fethry Duck was the sixth member of the operation and was a few blocks away. His part in the whole thing was to pick them all up afterwards by car when they were finished, and possibly assist if something would go wrong. Hopefully, it wouldn't.

While Lucas was on the walkie-talkie, Rhoda took the opportunity to study the map. She adjusted her round glasses before unfolding the large sheet. A bit awkward, she tried to hold the cumbersomely map in one hand while using the other hand holding her flashlight to see.

Reginald could not help but watching her in adore. She was so beautiful, even in the dim light from the torch. Her long auburn wavy hair was laying like a cape over her thin bare shoulders and was being kept away from the face by a thin braided headband that was strapped around the forehead. A large white plastic lily was attached to the band at the side, a little bit above the right ear. She was wearing a strapless dress with a salmon-pink top and a long paisley patterned skirt that went to down the ankles. Around her neck, in a black thick thread, she had a wooden peace sign. She was just so pretty!

The female mallard suddenly raised he eyes and looked in his direction. Oh darn!

Quickly, he looked away and pretended to study the camera, which he unknowingly still was holding on tight to with both hands even though he had the strap around his neck. While letting his fingers slide over the metallic buttons on the side it suddenly struck him that he had no idea how it worked.

Hm, let's see here… That must be where you turn it on… and that kind of looks like a zoom wheel… Hm, where could the trigger be? What is that button doing?

A big white flash lit up in front of him to a loud clicking sound, so sudden that the duck jerked. Two giant purple dazzling spots landed in his retinas, blinding his vision, and lit up every time he closed his eyes. He blinked a couple of times to try to make them fade away. Aha… _There_ was the trigger…

"Heh-hey! Make sure to save at least _some_ film left for the operation", Lucas said right behind him, more amused rather than angry.

"Eh, yeah! Eheh… eh, I was just… making sure that it's working alright", Reginald claimed embarrassed. Why…? _Why?!_

"Hey guys, I don't like that we're standing here right in the open", Lucas said to both of them. "I suggest we move to another location nearby. We're not stepping into the yard, in case we'd risk sabotaging for the others."

"Right!" Rhoda said and folded the map back again.

A few feet away there was a cairn where the trio decided to wait. There were no streetlights in the area and as long as they had their torches turned off the risk that anyone would notice them were virtually nil. However, that meant the same for them.

With the darkness lying like a black veil over their eyes as they rested among the stones Reginald could not help but sharpening his ears extra and take notice to every single noise he heard, feeling the fear rise inside him. He always imagined something nasty to suddenly come out from the dark and attack them. Shaking like a leaf, he crawled up, holding a firm grip around Lucas's camera. His tremors made the film rattle inside the appliance.

"Are you alright, Reginald?" Rhoda, who was sitting right next to him in the dark, suddenly asked.

"Huh? Who? Me? Yeah, I'm just… freezing a little that's all", he lied. "Heh, stupid of me not to bring a sweater."

"Well, hopefully we won't have to wait for _too_ long", Lucas's voice was heard next to Rhoda's other side.

The trio only had to wait a few more minutes before the walkie-talkie suddenly began crackling.

"Hello?" the cat answered.

" _Hello, yeah, everything is set here now_ ", Femme's voice was heard from the other line (at least Reginald _thought_ it was Femme, but with the crackling and poor sound transmission it was hard to say).

"Roger. Good going! Then you just stay where you are until we report that we've finished our part."

" _You got it boss! Over and out!_ "

"End of transmission! And please, do not call me boss", Lucas added a bit bothered before hanging up. Although he was the leader of a big organization Lucas didn't really liked being talked to in such formal manner. He was always sure to remind people that he was just like everyone else and that his life was not worth more than any other's. Reginald thought that that was one the qualities that made him such a good leader.

The gang turned on their flashlights and went back the same way they had come from, walking into the yard. They made their way across the dark almost deserted parking before entering the main building. Since Femme and Castor had disconnected the electric lock, it was just for them to waltz right in.

"Okay, where do we go?" Lucas asked Rhoda, who still had the map, when the trio arrived to the dark empty reception.

Rhoda turned out a small piece of the sheet and took a quick glimpse.

"Well, I think the _easiest_ way would be to continue down this hallway and then take the stairs down to the basement plan and go from there", she said, directing her flashlight right before them, lightening up the long corridor.

"Okay, then let's do that", Lucas agreed on and nodded. "We follow your lead."

The gang walked down the dark hallway, passing by a number of doors and transverse corridors. Rhoda, who was walking first, was sure to count them all and compared them to the map. Reginald and Lucas helped illuminating the road ahead of them with their torches.

When they were almost at the end of the hall they turned to the right and continued in that direction till they reached a door, leading to a stairwell. They took the stairs down and ended up in something that looked like a large storage room. Big barrels and boxes were stacked all around, and the small breeze that swept by indicated that there most likely was a garage entrance nearby. Reginald suspected that the contents in those containers probably were no naturally produced preparations.

"The laboratory area should be that way", Rhoda told and pointed to the other side of the long hall to the right.

They kept moving in that direction alongside the wall to not get lost in the maze of stacked boxes and barrels. It was actually a surprisingly long way to walk. It wasn't until after they had walked for quite a while as the trio really realized how big the room actually was. Reginald almost wished they could have taken one of the vehicles in the room which were meant to be used to transport cargo with and _driven_ over. After they finally arrived to the other side they stepped in through another door that led to a new corridor.

"Alright, if I've understood everything correct now there should be three different laboratory rooms in this whole building", Rhoda informed and unfolded the map again to show. "One of them is on this floor while the other two are located one level up. There's no information here about exactly what they are being used for, nor what's stored in them. So, I believe it might be the best if we search them through one by one."

"Well, we are getting to the point there your knowledge extends mine, so I'll let the two of you decides what's for the best", Lucas said entrusting.

"Well, okay, then what about we start going through the lab at this floor and then continue with the others above?" Rhoda suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that", Reginald agreed on, and so they carried on to the first lab.

The three spotlights from the trio's torches danced around inside the dark lab. Various sampling tubes and oddly shaped beakers were standing on the long white benches, which were perfectly spread out in the room like school desks in a classroom. The beakers, some of them filled with different colored liquids, glistened beautifully when the light from their flashlights reflected towards their polished surfaces. The gang chose not to turn on the ceiling lights just in case any passerby outside would notice the light.

Rhoda went and started inspecting the liquids in the test tubes and the beakers while Reginald walked over to one of glass cabinets by the wall to take a look at the things inside. He grabbed the handle and pulled it gently. He felt something holding against, so he pulled a little harder, this time so the whole locker shook a little.

"No! It's locked!" he said disappointed. Of course, the electric locks in the building, which now was disconnected, didn't led to the cabinets.

"Wait, let me help with that", Lucas said.

Reginald stepped aside and watched as the leader picked up a lock pick, similar to the one Femme had, from the pocket on his jeans and started picking the lock to the cabinet door.

Femme must have taught him how to use that, Reginald thought as he watched the cat unlock the door, surprisingly faster than Femme actually, but maybe it's just easier to pick cabinet locks than locks to big gates.

"There you go!" the Birman said and opened up the double doors for Reginald.

"Thanks!" Reginald said and started taking a look at the massive cylinder containers inside, which seemed to held some kind of special gases. He twisted and turned the heavy cans where they stood at the shelves, trying to find the label, and read the information on them. It was pretty strong preparations, but nothing that was really interesting in court. It was probably better to save the film to the truly nasty stuff.

They kept searching around in the lab, inspecting the various objects. Lucas gladly assisted if they needed to unlock more cabinets. ("I guess that's the only thing I can be in any benefit for you around here, haha!" he joked.) They actually did manage to find a few things that were interesting enough to become models for the camera.

"Hey! Look at this!" Rhoda suddenly cried.

The two guys went over to see what she had found. The female duck was eagerly looking through a big thick binder on one of tables.

"What is it?" Lucas asked curious.

"This is the register of all the substances and compounds preserved at the facility!" she told exalted. "It tells exactly where they are stored and even their chemical compounds!"

"Really?" Reginald exclaimed, highly interested, and went closer to take a better look. He shone with his flashlight over the black typewriter writing against the yellow-white documents. Yes indeed, this thing was like a treasure map.

Rhoda took seat by the table to read through the binder thoroughly from the beginning. Meanwhile Reginald tried to look up some of the preparations that were stored in this specific lab. Some of them, he had found already and photographed.

"Man, I have to admit, you two really are good at what you're doing", Lucas said impressed while watching Rhoda as she was writing down some of the chemical names, which was all Greek to the cat, from the binder on a separate paper. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Rhoda, I heard you where one of those students that got among the highest results last semester."

"Well… yeah, that's right", she admitted a bit timid. "I got the second highest score. After Reggie actually."

"Huh? Really?"

The cat raised his eyebrows in surprise and turned his head wondering towards the drake that stood a few feet away.

"Eh, well, you see, I have a scholarship so I have to work really hard if I want to retain it. If I'm not getting good grades I won't be able to afford my education", Reginald explained a bit sheepish.

Lucas continued looking amazed at him for a few seconds.

"Wow…", he said. "Man! I must have been really lucky to have gotten two such awesome individuals like you as my friends. And the Opals can sure be happy to have the two best students on their side. It's talented and kindhearted people like you that brings light upon our future. I'm thanking you for lightening up that path."

He called me his friend! He called me talented! HE CALLED ME AWESOME!

Reginald had never even in his wildest dreams even dared to dream that the great Lucas actually would look at him with such respect. This was probably the happiest day, er, night, in his life!

"Wow, jeez! Well, how do you respond to something like that? You're welcome, it was nothing!" Rhoda said flattered. "I'm just glad to contribute with something good to this world."

"Yeah! Same here!" Reginald agreed, and tried not to sound _too_ ridiculously happy.

The gang continued their work in the laboratory. Reginald had already finished photographing so both he and Lucas were as good as out of work while Rhoda still was going through the binder, writing down the formulas.

"How long do think it'll take before we are completely finished with everything here? Approximately", Lucas asked Rhoda while bored resting his elbow against the table, fiddling with his white rainbow-shining opal stone that he always was carrying around in a black thread around his neck.

"Well, I still have some left to write down, but after that it shouldn't take _too_ long to localize everything… Half an hour an hour maybe", she surmised without taking the eyes of the page.

"Okay, 'cause I thought I should call the others so they know sort of about when to get ready", he explained and picked up the walkie-talkie from his bag again.

A loud annoying sound was head from the device when Lucas tried to phone.

"Hello…?"

The appliance suddenly emitted a quite alien cracking noise.

"Hello? _Hellooo?_ Urgh!" the feline groaned irritated and shook the thing.

"Rats! It seems to be bad reception here", he muttered. "I go out in the corridor and try there."

"Okay", Reginald said and nodded noting before the cat disappeared out of the room.

Now that the cat was gone, Reginald was left alone with Rhoda in the room. He contemplated whether he should think of something good to say or if it was better to just be quiet and not interrupt her concentration. He did feel pretty stupid however just standing there like an idiot and not do anything. Maybe he should try to help out somehow? But how, he had already finished photographing?

"There! Okay, I've finished writing down all the subjects stored in one of the labs upstairs", Rhoda told suddenly and turned to the drake. "Why don't you go there in advance and start searching while I continue writing down the ones in the last one? It's the lab located in the room closest right up after the stairs down this hallway."

Rhoda held out the paper to him.

"Sure! No problem!" Reginald energetically took the document. "You can always trust me, you know," he said, trying to sound just a little flirty.

Why does it feel like everything I say just sounds so plain stupid, he wondered. Gah! This is hard!

"Okay, great! See you later then!" Rhoda said, sounding quite oblivious.

"Um… yeah… of course!" he said a bit unsure and took a quick look at the map, which was laying on the table, before he walked towards the door. "Weeell… see you soon then!"

The way to the other laboratory went unexpectedly splendid. Reginald had expected to meet Lucas in the corridor, but he guessed he must have gone out to the storage room to find better reception there.

The second laboratory was very similar to the first one, except that the windows were taller since this room was higher above ground than the other one, which had only been half above. He began checking through the paper Rhoda had given him to see what kind of preparations she had written down.

Even her handwriting is beautiful, he could not help but to think dreamy. Okay, Reggie, focus now! Let's see here. Hm, a lot of halogen- and sulfur-compounds, various heavy metals, biocides…

There was one chemical on the list that especially caught his attention. It seemed to be a strange mix between a number of corrosive substances and cytotoxic preparations.

He frowned thoughtfully while trying to interpret the compounds in the chemical's formula. He had never encountered anything like this before. Wonder where that could be stored?

He followed with his eyes horizontally across to the paper's second column, where Rhoda had written down the sections of where all the subjects was preserved.

Section K8?

Curiously, Reginald began searching around in the room, directing his flashlight towards the stickers by the top of the shelves and cabinets to read them off. G… H… I… J….

He finally found the right letter over a glass cabinet above a counter that was placed at the bottom in the farthest corner of the room, about 16 feet from the entrance. Through the transparent glass, he noticed a conical-shaped glass beaker with a teal colored substance. Right below the beaker, on the shelf at the edge, a sticker with an 8 had been put on. (Or, well, since the non-glassed part of the cabinet doorframe was in the way it looked more like a flipped 3 from Reginald's view.)

Of course it would be locked up, he thought and sighed tired… Hey! Wait a second…!

Through the small gap between the two cabinet doors, on the same level with the lock, he noticed that the light from his flashlight didn't reflect against the small metal piece that normally is used as the hasp on the inside of many locks. Hm…

He laid down Rhoda's list on the counter and then gently pulled the handle to the cabinet. It was open!

"Well, well! How about that!" he said content for himself and opened the door. Before taking down the beaker, he took the opportunity to lay off the camera, which strap for a while now achingly had been chafing against his neck due to the weight.

He turned the bottle around in his hand, so that the label was facing towards him, while directing the flashlight at the simple black text.

Mordarvaxtocid it said with large font. Reginald had never heard of any preparation with that trade name earlier. He continued reading the ingredients below, which were typed with smaller text. The mallard's eyes widened more and more for every word he read and eventually he stood there with open beak staring stunned at it.

"Man, this is totally dangerous!" he said out aloud, and held in dismayed the beaker far away from his face. "Why do people even want to _produce_ things like this?!"

Suddenly, the ceiling lamps got turned on, to the duck's surprise, and the whole laboratory was flooded in light. Reginald turned his head towards the exit, only to find himself facing the eyes of an unfamiliar, incredibly surprised, big fat light-brown middle-aged anthropomorphic bulldog in a brown suit with several double chins.

"What the h…! WHO ARE YOU?!"


	3. Life in Your Hands

**3\. Life in Your Hands**

It was like his heart stopped abruptly in him. The menacing eyes of the angry bulldog was so intense that it felt like they stared at each other for a very long time when it probably didn't last longer than a second.

From have been standing as petrified, the little bird quickly went from zero to a hundred as he started running to the other side of the oblong room.

"Why you…! GET OVER HERE YOU LITTLE VARMINT!"

His heart pounded hard when he heard the noise of the dog carelessly work his way forwards between the tables to run after him. Quickly, the duck tipped over a high stool by one out of the lined desks he passed by to block the narrow passage between the desk and the window. On the fly, he accidentally dropped his flashlight as well.

"UFF!"

In the corner of his eye he saw the big dog trip over the stool's long slim legs and fall forwards with the fifteen chins hitting the floor. If it hadn't been that he feared for his life right for the moment, he had probably thought it looked quite hilarious.

He was closing in to the end of the room. Soon he wouldn't be able to run anymore he understood.

I need to get out of here, he thought desperate.

He paused for a moment to approximate how long it would take him to get to the exit.

There's no point, he realized. He would never be able to get there before the big canine, who already had gotten back up on his feet, would manage to catch him on the way. There was nowhere to escape!

Quickly, he therefore instead chose to dive down on the floor between the two benches that he had stopped by. He felt his knees painfully scratch up against the hard linoleum floor while he frantically crawled on ahead. I wasn't until then that he suddenly noticed that he had brought the beaker with Mordarvaxtocid, whose narrow bottleneck his fingers had a hard grasp around, along with him so he had to use his knuckle against the floor to be able to crawl. He was just about to throw it aside, but the sound of quick steps behind him made him instead chose to focus on rapidly increasing his speed forwards. He got to the end of the counter where he half rolled half threw himself around the corner to the left, back the way he had come from.

"NOW I GOT YOU YOUR LITTLE…! Huh?" he heard the dog utter in surprise when he got to the place where he had seen the duck disappear between the two benches, only to see him gone. Reginald heard how he violently started pulling the door to the lockers, the cabinets and even the drawers.

As quiet as possible the duck carefully kept crawling, close to the desks, along the room towards the exit, which was about 30 feet away. However, before he even managed to pass by the second counter's short side, he suddenly heard the dog giving up searching inside the cabinets and instead started heading in his direction. Reginald quickly rolled in under the counter and hid next to the drawer that was supporting the table at one of the ends.

With his heart booming, he crawled up with his knees into a ball, anxiously clasping the beaker with Mordarvaxtocid. The dog's quick feet trotted right past him. In the glass cabinet door of the counter standing right opposite to him, containing a bunch of empty samplings tubes in stands and stacks of Petri dishes, he could see the reflection of the canine walking towards the exit. Apparently, it had come up for him that the young drake probably would try to get there eventually since there was no other way out of the room.

In the somewhat obscure reflected light in the glass, Reginald watched the bulldog trying to lock the door. Though, since the electronic lock had been disconnected and the door couldn't be locked manually that didn't work, something the fat dog noticed. The big pooch muttered something inaudible as he irritated tried to get the lock to activate by repeatedly open, close and pulling the handle hard several times, with no success. He finally gave up and instead chose to try to barricade the door by placing a couple of chairs in front of it, a bit pointless maybe since the door opened outwards and the backrests where to short to reach up to the handle, but at least enough to make it difficult for the intruder to make a quick escape.

After making sure that the exit was blocked somewhat he vigilantly started searching the room with his eyes, his head slowly turning back and forth.

"Okaaay, I know you're in here somewhere. Now, be a nice little birdie and come out", he said calm in a false tone of security and slowly walked towards the corner where he first had caught the glimpse of the waterfowl when he had entered the lab. In the pane of glass, Reginald saw him pick up some kind of elongated metal thing from one of the benches.

"You don't need to be afraid, I just want to ask a few questions", he claimed as he let the cap of the metal clobber, or whatever it was, rest in his palm while holding the handle with his other hand. "Questions about what you're doing here… at my company… in the middle of the night… You do know that the visiting hours don't open until nine o'clock?"

A lump began to form in the troubled duck's throat. He was quite sure that this man didn't really want to "just ask a few questions".

"Huh? What's this?" the dog suddenly wondered and went over to the place where Reginald had found the beaker earlier.

The young drake watched him pick up something relatively large black and rectangular in one of his chubby hands. A long black wide strap dangled from the thing.

Oh no! Lucas's camera!

"Ah…hahahahaha HAHAHA…!"

The canine let out a malevolent laugh that slowly increased in volume, putting two and two together. The gruesomely evil sound felt as if someone slowly shoved two knives into the mallard's ears. This was really bad.

"Ah! I see! Let me guess, you're one of those cursed tree-huggers who want to put me on the poorhouse, huh? The Topazes, or whatever you're called", he assumed presumptuously.

The lump in his throat grew bigger.

"Well, well, well, kids nowadays…", the bulldog sighed and slowly began strutting in Reginald's direction. "You think you are so invincible. Your cute little talk about peace and love, thinking you can change the world."

Reginald watched the big dog taking up more and more space in the small pane of glass. Soon he was going to find him.

"But here's a lesson: You see, there are _others_ here who happens to have an _income_ to think of! And don't think that I'm going to let a bunch of _brats_ stand in my way for my profit!"

Reginald noted the growing aggression in the canine's voice.

"I _refuse_ to give in! Even if I so personally have to get rid of you all ONE BY ONE!"

CRASH!

It felt like something broke inside the little duck when he witnessed the man breaking Lucas's camera to pieces against the table edge in one single blow.

I'm going to die now, the mallard realized hapless. This was the end. There was no way this man would show him any mercy. He was going to kill him and then go after the others. It was all over!

Despondently, he crawled up even more, leaning his forehead against the cold glass of the beaker.

He glanced up at the black label text, staring at the first four letters of the chemical's trade name, which completely took up his whole field of vision.

No…! He couldn't let Lucas and the Opals down. He wasn't going to let himself get captured by this man and risk him getting the others as well. The evidence from the camera might have been destroyed, _buuut…_ if he somehow just could make his way out with this chemical he had in his possession, they might still have a chance to put an end to the company and their horrible productions. The big question was: How in the _world_ was he going to get past that bulldog? He needed some sort of distraction so that he quickly could escape through the door, preferably before the canine found his hideout.

Next to him on the floor to the right, his eyes fell on a pink eraser that someone had dropped. He carefully picked it up and made himself ready to quickly get up on his feet and run for the exit. The duck followed the dog's movements in the glass cabinet, waiting for the perfect moment. Then, he used all his power and threw the eraser far to the right towards the other end of the table.

The loud clang echoed between the lab's walls when the little piece of rubber bounced against the element by the wall on the other side, making the big pooch react and immediately rush over there. It was now or never!

Reginald quickly stood up and ran like shot out of a cannon towards the exit. He focused his eyes on the chairs in front of the door and already started planning in his mind the best way on how he would shoo them away to free the path. Almost there…

Suddenly, he felt something grab him by the collar of his shirt. The neck ring tightened him up in a painful chokehold by his throat. He heard the sound of small cracks starting to break up in the glass as he accidentally hit the beaker against one of the table edges when he got pulled back.

"HA!"

Through the blurry sight before his eyes, he saw in horror the shine from the metallic bat as the bulldog lifted the thing above his head, ready to hit him. Out of pure instinct, Reginald quickly threw the glass beaker at him, hitting the dog's face.

 _"AHHHH!"_

The canine let out a painful piercing scream when the cup broke and the teal liquid poured over him. He let go of him and the bat, which fell to the floor with a clang, barely drowned by the dog's scream, and put his fat hands over his eyes.

Reginald continued running towards the door and immediately started shoveling away the herd of chairs. The room suddenly got filled with a pungent stench of rotten meat and ammonia. Behind him he heard the dog's scream increase in a more terrified tone.

" _AHHHH!_ WHAT _IS_ THIS THING?!"

Reginald turned his head around in wonder and was met by the most horrible sight he had ever seen that made his feathers stand up on the back of his neck and his blood run cold in his veins.

He had indeed read the label on what the Mordarvaxtocid was made up of, but he had never in his life believed that it was able to do something like this. The scene before him was like taken out of a horror movie. All the skin on the dog's head had been almost totally disintegrated. The pink flesh lay like a shriveled melting mourn over the cranium, whose white color slowly got more and more visible by the areas around the forehead and right temple. Through the blood-filled eyes the man stared horrified at his fleshy trembling hands, whose fingers was turning into stubs right before him. At one corner of the mouth of the man's open screaming mouth Reginald saw the tendons getting broken off so that the line of cheek teeth were exposed.

"HELP ME! PLEASE, _HELP ME!_ "

The ghastly zombie-like creature suddenly threw himself desperately with his hand-loose arm extended towards Reginald.

" _WAAAH!_ "

Reginald screamed in fright as he stared down into the horrific creature's dark, now empty, eye sockets and immediately backed off away from it. He quickly rushed in between the two nearest disks, forcing himself not to look behind him, but it was already too late. The macabre scene he'd just witnessed was flashing before him in his mind to forever be stored in his memory.

Suddenly, the scream stopped. A splashing thud was heard before an eerie silence filled the room.

It started blackening before the drake's the eyes and stars flashed on his retina, the dog's bloodcurdling scream still ringing in his ears. His legs gave way like cooked spaghetti, and he felt like vomiting. About to faint, he hastily grabbed on to the edge of the table so that he could slide himself as careful as his limbs allowed him to down to the floor. He took a few deep breaths and focused his eyes on the small gray and brown speckled spots on the yellowish floor to not lose his consciousness. The stars gradually disappeared and his vision became clearer as the oxygen flow to the brain was being resumed. In shock, he sat down with his back leaning against one of the cabinet doors. He supported his cold sweaty forehead with his hand, continuing to breathe heavily.

How much he tried, the scene he had just witnessed couldn't be unseen. He had just watched a man die, in the most painful and horrific way ever. And it was _his_ fault…

Reginald was too overwhelmed that he didn't even hear the sound of footsteps coming from the corridor outside the lab. The door to the room was opened and Lucas stepped in.

"Hello? Reggie?" Lucas said worried and noticed the apathetic duck on the floor a few feet ahead. The cat immediately began pushing aside some of the chairs that still stood in the way. His nose furrowed due to the hideous stinging stench in the room.

"Yuck! What's that smell?! What's going on here? I heard a screa… HOLY!"

The white-and-gray Sacred Birman jolted horrified when his eyes fell on the decomposed meat blob that was bubbling beneath the worn brown jacket.

"WHAT THE…?! What…?! Who…?!"

Lucas was so baffled that he couldn't even finish his own sentences. Aghast, he turned his head toward the duck. "Reggie, what have you done?!"

"I… I didn't mean to… He attacked me…", the traumatized bird rasped, barely able to get the words out of his throat. The horror video was still playing before him on repeat, composed with the tormenting piercing scream of the canine.

Lucas's eyes suddenly fell on the broken camera lying on the table next to the big meat nugget.

"ARGH! This can't _be!_ " the cat cried and put his both hands on his forehead in despair. Stressed he started racking his brain on what to do.

"Urgh! We need to get everybody out of here", he suddenly said. "C'me on here!"

Lucas reached for the broken camera and hastily threw the strap over his shoulder before he rushed out of the room towards the stairs. It took him a few seconds before he suddenly noticed to his surprise that his duck companion wasn't following him.

"Reggie? Reginald?"

He went back to the room and found the mallard still in his apathetic position at the same spot with his empty eyes staring out into nothingness in the direction of the cupboard opposite to him.

"Urgh! Come on! Get moving!" Lucas demanded him stressed and walked over to the duck. He hastily grabbed his wrist and pulled him back up on his feet. Reginald got a quick glimpse of the big dark flesh-colored puddle on the floor as Lucas dragged the faltering duck along out of the room. On the fly, the cat took the opportunity to turn off the lights in the lab before they briskly walked down the corridor.

"Unbelievable! This isn't happening! This isn't _happening!_ " the Birman muttered stressed and frustrated while hastily putting down the still turned on flashlight in one of his back pockets, with the headlamp pointing upwards, blinding the duck for every step he took. Then he pulled out the walkie-talkie from the front pocket and started dialing.

" _Y'ello…?_ "

"Fethry! Start the engine! We're leaving! Now!" he ordered firm.

" _Alright! Over and o…_ "

Lucas didn't bother finish the conversation and hung up in the other duck's ear to quickly call the next group.

" _Yeah?_ " Femme answered at the other end.

"Femme! Castor! Let go of everything and get to the rendezvous point immediately!"

" _Alright, just give us a few minutes…_ "

"NO! We don't _have_ _"a few minutes"!_ " Lucas almost screamed into the device. "Just let go of everything and _leave!_ "

" _But… what about…_ "

"I'll fix the security system later somehow. Right now, the most important thing is that we get out of here. Don't touch anything! Just _leave!_ "

" _Um… Okay…?_ " Femme said perplexed.

"NOW!" Lucas shouted at them. A light clatter was heard on the other end before Lucas hung up. He put the device back in his pocket and took out his flashlight again to illuminate the way in front of them.

They got to the stairs at the end of the hallway and they started making their way down to the lower floor. Since Lucas still was holding a firm grip around Reginald's wrist the duck had no choice but to try to adapt to the cat's speed.

"And _you!_ " The cat stopped in the staircase on the terrace halfway down and turned to the waterfowl, so sudden that Reginald almost fell right at him.

Lucas directed his flashlight right at the mallard's face. In the strong blinding light Reginald stared right into the cat's resolute deep blue eyes, whose angry glare could be likened to a violent storm at sea.

"Just promise me _one_ thing!" he sternly asked him to. "Whatever you do: Don't. Tell. _Anyone!_ About this! And I mean _anyone!_ "

Lucas knocked him lightly on the chest with the torch for each point he marked.

"Nothing to the police. Nothing to the others. Nothing to _anyone!_ " the feline continued. "We don't want to cause anymore trouble, okay? I'm going to take care of all of this so don't you worry. All I ask from you is that _you_. Keep that bill of yours. _Shut!_ Understood?"

Reginald was so dazed for the moment that he couldn't get a word out of his throat. Instead, he just nodded apprehensive in answer.

"Good, then let's go", Lucas decided and let go of the duck's wrist before continuing downwards.

While they made their way through the corridor on the lower floor they met Rhoda right outside the first laboratory.

"What's going on?" she asked wondering. "I thought I heard something…"

"We have to get out of here, we've got trouble", Lucas explained hurriedly without stopping.

"Trouble?!" Rhoda repeated worriedly. "What kind of trouble?"

"There's no time for explaining. Right now, we have to focus on getting out here", Lucas said stressed.

"Okay, do I have time to just go and get…?" Rhoda asked and pointed back into the room.

"NO, you _don't!_ We have to leave _pronto!_ " Lucas interrupted firm and grabbed her forearm and started dragging her along with them. Jeez! Why does everyone think they've got time to _do_ things in an urgent situation like this?

The two ducks followed their leader into the large storage room where they all started running towards the staircase far away, with Lucas in the lead.

"What exactly is going on here?" Rhoda, who was running last in the line, wondered, highly confused. "Reggie, do you know what has happened?"

Reginald pretended that he didn't hear her, and instead increased his velocity forwards to avoid having to talk with her alone. He didn't know what to say. Besides, he had also just promised Lucas to not tell anything.

He was pretty sure of one thing though. He was probably never going to have to worry about that their great leader ever would forget his name again.

* * *

 _ **A/N: In contrast to other villains of Darkwing Duck, Bushroot has always been known as the least evil one. In fact, as a person he is actually quite nice and caring, and he has even occasionally been pictured as a GOOD guy. Yet, ironically, he is also one of few villains that are known for have MURDERED people.**_

 ** _To be honest, the fact that an otherwise such sensitive and emotional character can be able to cross such a big line without feeling any guilt or_** ** _remorse_** ** _really has been racking me. It doesn't really make sense. The most likely conclusion that I could come up with for that in the end was… that maybe the case with Dr. Gary and Dr. Larson wasn't the FIRST time Bushroot came across with death…_**

 _ **This is actually what inspired me to write this story in the first place.**_

 _ **Also, a little trivia, the name for the fictive chemical Mordarvaxtocid derives from the Swedish word 'mördarväxt' which means 'killer plant' or, more accurately**_ _ **, 'murder plant'.**_


	4. Karma, or Somethin'

**4\. Karma, or Somethin'**

"Alright, can we _finally_ get some clarity here now? Exactly _what_ happened?" Castor asked wondering after the last member of the group, Reginald, finally had arrived to the assembling in the organization's meeting place, a cottage right outside the city, the day after.

Reginald had intentionally showed up a few minutes late to avoid having to meet any of the others before the meeting and risk getting interrogated. Without looking into anyone's eyes, he walked over to the long oblong table in the middle of hall and grabbed the empty seat next to Rhoda on the left. He was still worried about what Lucas had in store for him, and exactly _how_ he was going to "take care of" the night's incident.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that too", Femme, sitting to the right of Castor and opposite to Rhoda, said and sounded quite annoyed. "Exactly _why_ did we have to leave so all of a sudd…?!"

"An alarm went off", Lucas lied.

Reginald glanced curiously at the cat, who was sitting by the table's short side three chairs away.

"An alarm?" Castor repeated confoundedly. "I heard no alarm."

"I heard something", Rhoda suddenly interjected, with her index finger in the air, "but I thought it was a scream."

Her last words stung like a thousand needles on Reginald's conscience.

"But I turned off all the alarms", Castor remarked puzzled.

"Well, obviously you must have _forgotten_ one!" Femme snapped at him and then groaned frustrated.

"Um… well, anyway", Castor, who didn't really know what to believe, said and moved on. "Next question: How did _this_ happened?"

The pelican held up the pieces of the broken camera in his big white fist.

"Weren't _you_ the one how was supposed to look after this thing?" he asked Reginald, in reality less accusatory than what it felt like he did for the small duck.

Obviously, he knew that they sooner or later were going to ask about that, but he still couldn't help but to wince when he got the question. He glanced unsure at all the wondering faces staring expectantly at him, waiting for an answer.

"Ummm…"

"It was my fault", Lucas suddenly said.

"Huh?" Femme uttered, looking surprised at the cat.

Huh?

Everyone, including Reginald, turned their heads in surprise toward their great leader by the end of the table.

"I was being foolish and reckless", said Lucas shamefully, yet responsibly. "You see, when I was walking around in the building to find better reception for the walkie-talkie I stumbled upon something that I thought might be of interest. So, I went back to the lab, to get the two of you." Lucas made a small gesture with his hand to the left towards Rhoda and Reginald. "On my way, I met Reggie in the hallway and asked him to come with me, since he had the camera. I wanted to test it out so I asked him to hand it over to me. Then… when we stepped into a certain area the alarm went off and I… dropped it. Embarrassing, I know. The reason this whole operation failed was completely my fault, and I am truly sorry about that. Not only because of my stupidity, but also because I put you all in such great danger. I'm really sorry."

The shame and rue in the feline's voice sounded so believable that he almost managed to even fool Reginald.

The young drake stared speechless at him. Was he really going to take the blame for something _he'd_ done?!

"It's okay, we all makes mistakes sometimes", Rhoda said forgiving.

"Yeah, that's what makes us all people", Fethry said.

"May I just ask why _you_ were in hallway when Lucas met you?" Castor asked Reginald curious.

"Oh! I'd asked him to go to the next lab in advance to locate the chemicals while I was still going through some notes", Rhoda explained before Reginald even got to answer.

"Right! Exactly!" Reginald nodded. At least _that part_ was true.

"Though, I realized afterwards that that was pretty pointless", Rhoda said, turning her head towards the drake next to her, "since you couldn't unlock the lockers anyway."

"Yeah… I noticed that… That's why I went with him instead", Reginald said and pointed lightly at Lucas.

"So… when it all comes down, we got absolutely _nothing_ out of this whole thing?!" asked Femme vexed. "Weeks of planning and researching all for _nothing?!_ "

"I'm afraid so", Lucas sighed sad.

No one said a thing, everybody just lowered their heads sad towards the floor. Castor moved the tip of his index finger depressed around in a little circle on the table.

"Well, THIS was fun", Femme muttered sarcastic.

The door to the room suddenly opened in a flash. On the threshold stood Gloria, Fethry's girlfriend, also a member of O.P.A.L.

"Hey! Guys! I think you might want to watch this!" she cried, on fire.

"What?" Lucas wondered and stood up from the chair.

The team accompanied her to the TV-room, which simply consisted of an old worn sofa with flower pattern and a small brown 17-inches TV that was turned on. A female news reporter was taking up half the screen, standing outside the city hall with a microphone in her hand.

"… _where the meeting with Ajax Chemicals was supposed to have taken place this morning…_ "

Ajax?

"Turn up the volume!" Lucas asked hasty.

Gloria walked over and pressed the upper volume button placed next to the screen on the apparatus.

" _The meeting was_ _ca_ nceled, however, because the president of the corporation, Mr. Roland D. Sullivan…"

A picture of the director was shown on the screen.

"…never showed up. The reason why is still unknown…"

The young duck could hardly believe his eyes. It was so unreal, like seeing a world famous singer as a simple troubadour at the town square. If Reginald had been about to drink anything now he would probably have spit out the liquid all over the TV in astonishment. With wide eyes and his bill partly opened he flabbergasted stared at the picture of the big fat director dog with saggy cheeks and multiple double chins on the television. The memory of the same chubby canine who furiously had been running after him at the company last night flashed for his mind.

It was he! IT WAS _HE!_

"According to the information, no one has either seen or heard from Mr. Sullivan since yesterday afternoon", the reporter continued. "The police still doesn't exclude that a crime might have been committed. No evidences have been found yet though…"

Reginald felt something poking him on the shoulder. When he turned around he noticed Lucas standing right behind him. The feline discreetly pointed at the TV and looked seriously at the drake with asking raised eyebrows. Reginald understood exactly what he was trying to ask and slowly nodded serious in response, his face stuck in a sincere and astonished expression with closed bill and eyes like saucers.

"Since Mr. Sullivan is responsible for all of the company's activities, all trade with Ajax Chemicals is going to be put on hold indefinitely until further notice. And now, over to…"

"Wait! That dude, who is gone, he's the _president_ of the company we're trying to get a lawsuit against?" Castor, whose brain still hadn't really finished compiling all the information, summarized asking.

"Apparently…", Fethry said dumbfound.

"I wonder what happened", Rhoda said wonderingly.

"Who cares? This is WONDERFUL!" Femme exulted. "Uh, wait, this _is_ good news, am'a right?"

"Well, it's good for _us_ ", Gloria said, sounding quite content. "All sales and development from the company is going to be put on hold."

"So… even though our efforts failed last night, you can still say that we won?" Castor wondered.

"Well, for now at least", Fethry said, pretty glad.

"Well, _I_ can live with that outcome", Femme said content.

Lucas turned to them all.

"Well, my friends", he said satisfied and made a light clap with his hands, "it seems like fate has been on our side this time. This just shows that even in the most hopeless situation things can turn around, and that evil deeds never pay off."

"Yeah! Once again justice has triumphed!" Fethry hoorayed.

"Tonight, there's a party at my place!" Castor announced cheering.

"Yeah! This just HAS TO be celebrated!" Femme said exited.

Reginald felt something small poking at his hand. He glanced down and saw that Lucas discreetly was trying to sneak a small piece of paper to him. The drake took the little note and closed his fingers around it completely so no one could see that he was holding something.

"I can bring some refreshments", Gloria offered.

"That would be great!" Castor said glad.

"Yay! Well, I gotta go now", Femme told. "Gotta work off those last hours of community service."

"And I promised uncle Ripcord to help out with some jet engines this afternoon", Castor informed.

"Well, see y'all later then!" Lucas said as they all left the room, after turning off the TV.

While everybody else was busy in various discussions Reginald took the opportunity to take a look at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand and read the, a bit hastily written, text:

 _My office 16:00._

 _Come alone._

 _Make sure no one sees you._


	5. Spilling the Beans

**5\. Spilling the Beans**

Cautiously, he looked over his both shoulders as he stood in the deserted hallway before he, a bit nervously, knocked on the door to Lucas's office. According to the note, the Birman wanted to meet him here at this time.

The drake anxiously sighed while waiting for someone to open the door on the other side. He knew exactly what the feline wanted to talk to him about. Mostly he was worried about in which mood the great leader would be in. Even though it all had worked out just fine for the Opals in the end, not the way they had had in mind maybe, but still, the duck had after all caused a lot of problems. Lucas not only had had to clean up after _his_ mess, but he'd also had to _lie_ to the others to protect him. And what's going to happen if the police gets wind of the missing bottle of Mordarvaxtocid? He wouldn't be too surprised if Lucas kicked him out of the organization…

The door finally opened ajar. Through the narrow opening the blue-eyed cat peered out his tabby head and looked suspicious around in the corridor.

"Did anyone see where you went?" he asked the bird serious.

"No, I don't think so", Reginald said and shook his head.

"Okay, come in!"

The cat opened the door a little more and hastily almost shoved the small waterfowl inside.

Reginald had never been to Lucas's office before, so this was the first time he got to take a look at the environment of which the Opal's great leader worked in. The room was quite small and dimly with dull yellow walls and a dark parquet floor. On one of the walls there was a relatively small window with float glass that threw an obliquely checkered shadow over the low rectangular desk, which was almost completely covered with a bunch of papers, all in a mess. On the narrow window frame there was a small cactus with a red-purple flower on the top (a Ferocactus fordii, Reginald noted). It was the only direct vegetation in the room. Apart from all the papers, on the desk he also noticed a typewriter next to a black-and-white photo of a happy young Birman girl, about nine years old maybe, wearing a dress with white polka dots, bicycling. On the table there was also a lamp with green lampshade, a white ceramic dove and a couple of newspapers. In the corner of the room stood a low armchair, probably meant for guests, with worn pads, whose dull light green-yellowish color was a perfect gradation-tone between the hideous color of the wall and the other boring color of the lampshade.

The duck understood now why Lucas always says that he hated office work. The place looked just as inviting as a prison cell.

"Reggie! My favorite duck in the whole wide world!" Lucas suddenly beamed upbeat with his arms open toward the mallard, after having been sure to lock the door behind them.

"Huh?!" the drake uttered surprised as the cat hugged him.

"Oh! You should just _know_ how much you have done for me! You've really spared me _a lot_ of work!" Lucas said and happily squeezed the bird's cheeks with his hands and shook him a little. "Oh! I am so _happy_ that I could _kiss_ you! … But that would be awkward…"

"So… you're not mad at me?" Reginald wondered perplexed.

"Mad at you? Why in the world would I be _mad_ at you?" Lucas asked confounded and let go of him.

"Because… I screwed up and endangered the whole operation?"

"What? No! Not at all!" he assured and lightly waved his hand.

"B-But w-what about the police?" Reginald asked worried. "I-I can't go to jail! I'll lose my scholarship! My future! _Everything…!_ "

"Hey, hey! Calm down! You don't have to worry about anything", Lucas ensured, trying to calm down the panicky duck. "The police won't even know we were there. I've already taken care of that."

"You have? How?" Reginald asked wondering.

"Well, you see, _after_ you all had been dropped up by your houses, I drove back to the company and cleaned up all the evidences of our presence", he explained and went over and sat down in his office chair. "Believe me, it was _not_ a fun job, but _totally_ worth it now in hindsight. I also took care of the alarm system and the surveillance cameras before I left, so no one is ever going to notice any difference."

"But what about the Mordarvaxtocid?!" Reginald persisted high-strung.

"Uh… Excuse me, the what?" Lucas asked dumbfounded.

"Oh, the… the chemical that…"

"Oh! _That_ thing!" Lucas suddenly got it, interrupting the duck. (Something Reginald was glad for since he really didn't feel like explaining it more detailed.) "Yeah… that was the only thing I couldn't do anything about unfortunately. All we can do is to hope that no one sees the connection between that and Sullivan's disappearance. I have connections in the police and I'll make sure that we'll be kept up to date in this investigation."

The duck was really amazed at the good cat's big commitment. He could have just left Reginald to his fate and chosen not to interfere. But instead, he helps protecting him and even misleads the police. This was probably the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. He was so happy and relieved that he almost wanted to cry.

"Wow… I can't believe you're doing all this for me", Reginald said deeply grateful. "I can never thank you enough. I would never have been able to handle all of this on my own."

"Oh, it was nothing", Lucas said. "I mostly did it for the team. If only _one_ of us would have gotten caught, _everyone_ would have risked getting in trouble."

"Oh, right! That's true", Reginald said. Of course he hadn't been doing it just for _his_ sake. "But… how come you lied to the others?"

"Because if the police ever would take any of them in for interrogation they can all honestly say that they don't know anything about the disappearing of Sullivan", Lucas explained simple. "The fewer who knows about the truth, the easier it's going to be for us. Wait! You haven't told anyone, have you?"

"No, not to anyone!" Reginald assured and shook his head.

"Oh, whew! Thank goodness!" the cat puffed relieved. "To be honest, I was afraid you would have."

"Oh, no! No risk for that! Um, I just wonder, how come you said that _you_ were the one who broke the camera?" the young drake asked a bit unsure, sheepishly scratching his upper arm. "You could have just said it was _my_ fault, at least that would have been _almost_ true."

"Maybe, but I just assumed that you probably had a rough time already, after what happened. So, whenever I get a chance, I don't mind helping out a friend by unloading at least _some_ of the cargo", Lucas said. Truth to be told, the cat had feared that the whole incident would have been too much for the fragile little bird that he would reveal the whole story to everyone.

Well, it was true that Reginald sure had been traumatized by the incident. He hadn't gotten any sleep at all that night. Sullivan's agonizing scream had kept him awake and the terrible images still flashed in his mind. He was really happy that he'd got Lucas to lean on. In all this disaster, he sure must have been lucky enough that it had been _Lucas_ who'd just happened to enter the lab at that time.

"You are too kind", Reginald said deeply grateful. "I will never be able to repay you for this."

Lucas laughed a little.

"Haha! But Reggie, you've already _done_ that!" the cat reminded him happy. " _I'm_ the one who's supposed to thank _you!_ Thanks to you, I just got rid of one of my worst opponents!" The Birman euphorically lifted his hands up to the ceiling. "Believe me, this is the absolute _best_ thing that ever could have happened!"

Reginald looked a bit wondering at his delighted boss.

"Is it?" he questioned low. "But… a man is dead…"

"Ah, he was a douche anyway", Lucas said, waving nonchalantly with his hand.

"Maybe, but he didn't deserve to die", Reginald remarked sad.

"Oh yes, he _did_. Trust me, you didn't _know_ Sullivan the way _I_ did", Lucas claimed. "He was one of the most nefarious and most ruthless persons in whole St. Canard. Even the workers at Ajax Chemicals were afraid of him. Believe me, everyone is feeling so much better now that he's gone."

"Well, _I_ don't", Reginald genuinely admitted, full of shame.

"What do you mean?"

"I… I still _see_ him", the traumatized drake revealed.

"What?"

"The images of him…, I still see them. H-His scream… is echoing in my head!" the duck told devastated and took his head with his both hands in despair. "I… I don't know if I can live with this."

"Whoa! Hey! Reggie!" Lucas said calming. He stood up from his chair and went over to the scarred duck, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Listen, that bull attacked _you,_ am I right?"

"Uh… yes", Reginald said, thinking back to that moment when Sullivan had pulled him hard by the collar and had lifted the shiny metal clobber over his head. His neck was still sore from that.

"Then it was self-defense, right?" Lucas said and looked him seriously in the eyes.

"Well… yes", Reginald said, still a bit hesitantly.

"There! Exactly! Then you didn't do anything wrong", the cat persuaded. "What happened over there wasn't your fault. You have no reason to feel guilty."

"But I feel like I should, and I _do! We_ weren't even supposed to have _been_ at the company at all!" the duck persisted upset.

"Urgh! Come on! He _deserved_ it!" Lucas tried to persuade him, starting to get irritated. Why couldn't the duck just be happy with the outcome?! Why did he just _has to_ be so sentimental?! "He was an evil man! Besides, his fate was already sealed anyway!"

Reginald carefully thought through the cat's last sentence.

"What do you mean with that?" the mallard asked confounded.

The Birman suddenly got quiet and all stiff in his face. Slowly, he turned aside, leaning with one hand resting on the desk, avoiding the bird's eyes.

"You're saying Sullivan was _dying?!_ " Reginald asked baffled.

The cat sighed and heavily stared down at the dark floor.

"Not exactly", he replied low.

"But… what did you mean with that his fate was already sealed?"

The white Birman uneasily drummed his fingers at the table a little and hesitantly bit his lower lip. Should he tell him? It's not like the duck would be able _tell_ anyone or anything without getting in trouble himself.

Lucas took a deep breath and then turned back to Reginald.

"Let's just say… that I had a little _surprise_ planned for Mr. Sullivan…", he suddenly revealed. "Just in case if he would have gone free from court!"

"What kind of surprise?" Reginald asked wondering.

Lucas hesitated a little.

"Reggie, how long have you been a member of O.P.A.L.?" he suddenly asked.

"A little more than a year", the duck told, not surprised that his leader didn't know that. "How come?"

"Then you probably know that everything we do doesn't always goes like planned?"

"Well… yeeaah…", the duck said. Like in this case, for example, he thought.

"Exactly, we don't always win in court."

"No…", Reginald sighed gloomy. He was very well aware of that.

"Exactly! It's not because we don't usually are right or that we haven't done enough work to get through with our demands", Lucas enlightened, suddenly a bit upset. "No, it's because the system. Is. Completely. _Corrupted!_ "

Exasperated, the cat stretched out his hand and slowly shook it, with his fingers partly bent, for each period he made. It looked like he was holding an invisible orange. "Sometimes it doesn't matter weather you're wrong or right or if you're fighting for a good cause!" he continued outraged. "As long as someone has enough power and money, people can get away with basically _anything!"_

Lucas sighed and scratched his forehead. "I know, it's unbelievable."

With slow steps the cat began wandering around in the room.

"For over ten years now, I have worked very hard to try to create a better world for us all", he said reflecting. "I've put my whole heart and soul into this organization. I always believed that good and justice was meant to always triumph over evil. Little did I know, that it actually was the _evil ones_ that _control_ the state of justice."

Lucas went up to the white ceramic dove on his desktop. Gently he stroked the ornamental bird's smooth back.

"Sometimes it didn't matter how much work we did", he continued. "With those people in court case, the judge decision was already made _before_ we'd even got to begin _stating_ out arguments. It didn't _matter_ how much wrong they had done. These… _monsters_ already have an excessive strong grip on the state and the society. The judge and the jury therefor _choose_ to look the other way! It sickens me really."

Reginald suddenly put notice to the long, thin, almost unseeable, crack on the little dove going diagonally from the head down to the abdomen where it bifurcated. Tiny bubbles of dried glue could be seen at a few places along the slits.

"I heard about a guy that got attacked by a crook, and the _crook_ received _ten thousand dollars_ in damage because _he_ broke his _hand_ when trying to hit the victim! _Is that justice?!_ " Lucas almost screamed, looking like he was about to explode. He lifted the small ornamental figurine, holding the thing in a tight grip with both hands like he was about to smash it. "It's completely obvious what needs to be done, yet those with the power do _nothing_ about it! The authorities are wasting their times on trivialities even though it's _perfectly_ clear to everyone who the _real_ bad guys are! And these guys are _allowed_ to walk on our STREETS!"

Lucas paused briefly and took a deep breath to calm down. He slowly put back the dove on the table and turned back to Reginald, looking quite miserable.

"I just couldn't accept it", he continued. "I can't just _stand around_ and _watch_ as the world falls apart! The people need a solution! And since the authorities won't do anything… well… then _I_ have to take care of it instead."

"Take care of what?" Reginald asked wondering.

Lucas looked away towards the window.

"Giving bad people what they deserve", he said low.

"And that is?"

Lucas turned back to the duck.

"I make them disappear", he told flat.

"Disappear…?" Reginald repeated wonderingly, suddenly feeling an ominous chill run up his spine.

No, Nononono! This was the great Lucas, the nicest man in whole St. Canard! He would never hurt anyone, the drake reminded himself quickly. No, I probably just must have misunderstood something.

"Eh, I'm sorry, but I don't think I really understand what you're meaning right now", the duck excused himself, quite at unease.

The Birman sighed plagued.

"Disappear. As in… vanish…, perish…, pass away."

"You mean… they're dead…?" Reginald asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Uh, yes."

Reginald felt it as if a ghost with an ice-cold phantom fist just punched him. Petrified, he stared at the cat in horror and his already white feathery face got even paler. He felt nauseous again.

"Yeeaah… I know this must be very much to take in", Lucas, who of course noticed the duck's expression, sighed and shamefully scratched his temple. "No one was ever supposed to find out."

"Is this some kind of joke?" the drake asked, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual, really hoping that it was. "'Cause I admit, you _really_ got me there."

"I'm afraid it's not", Lucas declared sorry.

No… It couldn't be! It was impossible! It didn't even make sense! This was the great _Lucas!_

"But… w-wait, I-I don't understand! _Y-You're_ the one who've always said that crime never pays off! A-And that there's always something good in everyone!" the duck stuttered bewildered.

Lucas sighed sorry and tired.

"Believe me, I really did, and I _wanted_ to believe that that was true! But throughout the years I've gotten a greater perspective on how the world really looks like, and I've met people that have managed to prove the contrary. People who really are incapable of feeling _any_ empathy or care at all. These _creatures_ don't do anything but _destroying_ for others! Tell me Reggie, have you never ever in your life stumbled upon a person that have made you thinking: Everything would just be _so_ much better if this specific person just didn't exist?"

"Eh… weeell…", he mumbled. The truth was that Reginald actually could think of a whole _lot of_ people that fitted very well into that picture. Like, for example, his old bullies in elementary school, the bullies in high school, his former PE teacher… And that was just a few. He hadn't even gotten to the mentioning about the two incredibly annoying students that happened to be in the same course as him at the university, Gary and Larson.

As a kid Reginald had always thought that only children could behave immature, while adults, apart from criminals, were perfect and well behaved. Unfortunately however, he had, from personal experience, discovered that some people never seem to grow up.

It all began with that Reginald had gotten one hundred percent on a test last year, and the professors had praised him for that. Ever since then, Gary and Larson had started to blurt jeers at him, calling him flower-nerd and know-it-all. In class, they could sit and giggle at him whenever he was holding a presentation, or sometimes even when he just answered the teacher's questions. According to Rhoda, that was because they were jealous of his intelligence and because he, unlike most others, really was passionate about something he wanted to research.

In the beginning, Reginald could ignore the harassments, mostly because he had been through way worse in high school. Though, when they started _sabotaging_ for him, like messing with his projects, hiding his stuff and ruining and ripping out pages from his schoolbooks, to such degree that it went out of his studies, he had had enough. But _killing_ them?

"…maybeeee…" he admitted a bit sheepish.

"There! You see!" Lucas said. "And exactly _who_ are the ones who get to suffer? Right, innocent kindhearted people that only want to be lawful and do what's right! That's the difference between good and evil, the good ones has rules, the evils don't. That's why we can't win. We can't win if we don't play the same game. That's where I come in. I know what I do is wrong, and believe me, I'm not proud of it, but sometimes you have to break a few rules if you want to do what's right."

Reginald could not believe this was really coming from _Lucas._ Sure, he might understand his point somewhat, but still, this guy was supposed to be the nicest man of St. Canards.

"But I want you to know, I always give everyone a rightful chance _first_ ", Lucas suddenly pointed out quick. "I only take care of those who the court partially let go unpunished _and_ has committed severe crimes. I'm not a complete monster if that's what you think."

Reginald searched through in his memory bank for all the people that Lucas had lost to in trial. Now that he thought about it, many of them _had_ either died or disappeared in mysterious ways the last years.

"You mean people like… Mr. Simon Penber?" Reginald asked careful.

"Uh… yeaaah, that was me", the cat admitted shamefully.

Reginald browsed for more people.

"Dr. Richard Ericson?"

"Yeah…", Lucas sighed.

"Mr. Jordan Jablonski?!"

"Actually _not_ , ironically. Believe it or not, he really _did_ pass away in a _real_ car-accident", Lucas told a bit amused. "I can't take care of _all_ of them, and especially not _right after_ trial. That would just look suspicious. Though, I _am_ planning on letting them meet their destinies as well. It's all about the matter of time…"

He suddenly started rummaging through his pocket with his hand and picked up something tiny, white and cubical, something that Reginald at first sight thought was a small tooth, but after a more careful look he saw that it was a tiny white dice with black dots.

"The secret is not to have any regular patterns for _when_ the time of death occurs", Lucas said in a mysterious tone and rolled the little plastic cube over the paper-covered table towards Reginald. It landed a few inches in front of the drake with number one upwards.

"And what about Sullivan?" Reginald questioned, with the fact in mind that the bulldog never had been in trial against the Opals earlier.

"Oh, well, I kind of had my suspicions that he probably would have gone free anyway, even if we would have managed to get proof against him", Lucas said and shrugged. "His time would have been this year anyway by the way." Lucas made a small gesture with his hand towards the dice. "So, while we were at the company anyway last night, I took the opportunity to take a turn to his office to look at his schedule and other things that could be of any use. You know, that time when I was " _trying to find better reception"._ " Lucas made quotation marks with his hands in the air. "Though, heh, thanks to _you_ I don't need to put any of those plans into action."

Even though his leader seemed very complacent, Reginald however, felt more hesitant to the whole situation.

"That reminds me by the way", the cat suddenly said. "I _assume_ that a smart guy like you wouldn't be so stupid to _tell_ anyone about all this… right? Because, after all, I don't really think _you_ want the police to get to know about _who's_ responsible for Sullivan's death…"

The white-and-grey Birman smiled maliciously at him, with his deep blue eyes piercing through the duck's soul.

"NO! I mean… No, o-of course not", the worrisomely mallard assured hasty and shook his head. "I won't tell anybody, I swear. You have my word."

"Good, because… the truth is… if this would ever get out it would not only end bad for the two of us, but for the others as well. If the public get to know that everything the Opals stand for are lies, people would give up hope about a better future and the members of the organization would feel betrayed", Lucas mentioned serious.

"Yeah, I can see that", Reginald understood. It was true. If the world got to know that the Opals' respectful leader was a criminal and a liar, the whole hippie movement would be seen as a big joke. All the Opals would be really disappointed in Lucas and no one would ever again want to work for or believe in a better world.

"So, we have a deal then? You keep my secret and I keep yours, and everything will be fine. Deal?" Lucas asked checking and stretched out a white furry paw towards the duck to shake hands on it.

Reginald anxiously took a deep breath.

"Yes", he agreed and shook the paw.

Lucas smiled satisfied at him.

"It's obvious that the university made a great deal when they gave _you_ a scholarship", he said. "You really _are_ a wise person."

* * *

 _ **A/N: The character Lucas Whiskers is mostly inspired by my sister's pet cat Luna, who's of same breed and color. He is partly named after her, but also after a good friend of mine, Lukas, who's a member of the association board of trustees of an organization I'm in, and Lucifer. His last name, I've taken from the psychic cat Mr. Whiskers in Frankenweenie.**_


	6. The Broken Dove

**6\. The Broken Dove**

This must be a dream, he thought. A nightmare. A nightmare that has been going on ever since the night they went to Ajax.

Why couldn't someone just wake him up? He was just waiting for the sun's blinding light to gleam through the large windows of his greenhouse, telling him that the night was over.

But the sun never came.

Depressed, he stood in front of the bookshelves in the university's library, looking for a specific book he needed for the course, while scratching his swollen left arm, which itched after the multiple times he had pinched himself in desperate hope that it would finally make him wake up from this bad dream. With his eyes he followed the lines of books, all with different color covers, sizes and thicknesses, in search for the right title, but it was like he simply just stared at the vertical going letters but didn't read them. For the umpteenth time he glanced down at his notebook he was holding there he had written down the title and the author's name, both which totally refused to get stuck in his brain. He looked up at the shelf again… Uh, which row was it that he had been following again…?

"Ugh!"

Heavily sighing, he turned away from the shelves and plagued rubbed his tired face with his hand. He couldn't even look at them. To the left of the shelf, he saw for his mind Sullivan's eyeless decomposing head floating around in the air helplessly crying for help, and to the right of the shelf he saw Lucas's floating head viciously glaring at him with those misfitting awkwardly seductive blue eyes.

Why is this happening to me, he had asked himself several times. Why me?

" _WHAT DID I DO THAT'S SO HORRIBLY WRONG THAT I DESERVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS?!"_

That, he had shouted out in pure despair to the higher powers of the universe when no one else had been in around.

It was so unfair. In his whole life he had never done anything but being a good and rightful man. He had never had any intention to harm or destroy for anyone else. So why on _earth_ was it still _he_ who was getting punished?!

Never in his life had he ever felt so lonely and sad like now. And the worst thing was that he had no one to talk with. Well, except Lucas possibly, but honestly, he didn't really feel like talking to him for the moment.

He was really disappointed in Lucas. For a long time, Reginald had always admired the Birman for his good heart, optimism, determination and wisdom. Then, learning that his whole image of the great cat had been nothing but an illusion… That really had broken off a big portion of the duck's own view of the world.

What bothered him the most actually wasn't really the fact that his idol was a ruthless serial killer, since Reginald could _kind of_ understand Lucas's motivation somewhat, plus the fact that all of those victims kind of had deserved their fates, as far as he knew. No, it was the fact that Lucas had gone behind everyone's backs and had acted against his own words about peace and love and everything that the Opals stood for.

If people got to know the truth about the great cat everyone who followed him definitely would feel sad and betrayed. It's true, because the fact was that there was already one person who had lost his faith in Lucas. Reginald.

He finally found the place where the book he was looking for was supposed to be. It wasn't there, the last exemplar was already lent out. He wasn't even surprised anymore, not with the luck he had had recently. Great, what's next? What's the _next_ miserable thing the universe had in store for him?!

"Well, hello! If it isn't the flower-dude!" Bud's taunting voice suddenly was heard behind him.

Sigh! He just _had_ to ask, didn't he?

The duck turned and started walking away without even looking at the dog.

"Hey?! What's with the cold shoulder?! Don't you say hi to people or something?" Bud asked offended and went after him.

"If I would have said hi it would have meant that I was happy to _see_ you!" the drake hissed and stopped and turned around, giving the dog a cold and serious glare.

"Wow! Oooo…! What an attitude!" Bud exclaimed quite shocked. "What's wrong with you, you're mad or something?"

"Wrong with me? _Wrong with ME?!_ Yeah, thanks, that's what I wonder too! In my whole life I have done _nothing_ but trying to be a good well-behaved caring person. And what have I gotten for that? People who've been abusing me, pushing me down, deceiving me, hitting me and other stuff. It always ends like that. You try to do something good and _all_ it does is backfiring at you! What's up with that really?! What's the point of even _trying_ to help out when you already know that all people are going to do is to throw everything you give to them back in your own FACE?!"

The drake felt the anger within him well up like the magma inside an erupting volcano. He took a deep breath and breathed out slowly to hinder himself from start yelling over the whole library.

"Okay, you know", he continued low while rubbing his eyebrows between his thumb and index finger to calm down his nerves, "I could just be polite now and claim that I have to go because I've got some kind of errand to do, or something like that, when _the truth_ is… that I don't think I actually can keep standing here talking to you and…, for some insane reason, actually _force_ myself to _not_ BURST at you! 'Cause _why_ should I care about acting nice to you? _You_ don't give a _fig_ about me or my problems! Am I right?"

"Uh…", Bud mumbled dumbstruck.

"Yeah, I though so! And apparently that's how things are supposed to be. For some reason it's considered _normal_ to be an egoistic, heartless, lying idiot! Well, no _wonder_ people always ask what's wrong with me! So, why should I even bother about caring for others when the only person that really truly cares about _me_ IS _ME?!_ No, I better go now 'cause _soon_ the librarian is going to come over here and ask me to leave because _I'm_ the villain that destroys for everyone around here! So good _bye_ and have an unpleasant day!"

The mallard lifted his hand to his forehead and harshly made a single wave gesture outwards towards the canine in sarcasm before he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.

Speechless, Bud followed the bird with his eyes until he disappeared past the corner of a large bookcase. He quietly laughed a little for himself, scratching his chin contemplating.

"Heh! Maybe he's not so shabby after all."

* * *

"Hey! Reggie!"

Reginald heard the crackling sound of footsteps behind him as he followed the gravel path leading away from the university area. Turning around, he saw Lucas merrily come walking towards him in the semi-bright afternoon light with his arms open.

"I've been looking for you the whole day", the cat said.

"Well… I've been in class…", the duck unsurely explained and subconsciously pulled away vigilant from the cat a little.

"Yeah I suspected that. Hey, you got time?" Lucas asked.

"Uh… yeah… sure", Reginald said hesitatingly.

"Okay, good! Let's go for a walk shall we?" Lucas suggested.

The duo moved away from the school area and followed a small path leading into the forest.

"I wanted to talk to you a little about you-know-what", Lucas explained after being assured that they were completely undisturbed.

"The police has already _found_ something?!" Reginald asked horrified.

"Huh? Oh, no, I've already got that part under control", he assured and lightly waved his paw in front of him. "Like I told you earlier, I have contacts in the police, and since I have… or, well, _had_ , unclear business with Sullivan no one finds it strange that I'm snooping around in the case regarding his disappearance. My motive is that I want to find him because I want him to "answer for his actions". In addition, I've also already manage to convince the police to believe that Sullivan probably has fled the city because he's afraid that _we've_ got hold of information that can convict him in court. So there are no problems on that front. No, I was just wondering how _you've_ been. I reckon all of this must be very rough to handle."

"Well, I've had better days", Reginald admitted low.

"Yeaah… I can see that…", the cat said a bit shamefully.

Reginald looked out over the river that ran through the woods to the left of the trail, admiring a pair of Fragrant Water Lilies calmly floating on the surface, much of which was covered by green lily pads and reeds. He hesitated for a moment.

"You know, I've been thinking…"

"May I ask you someth…? Reginald happened to ask at the exact same time, accidentally interrupting the cat. "Oh, sorry! You first!"

"No, it's okay! You go first!" Lucas assured friendly.

"Um, o-okay. Well I just wanted to ask something."

"Well, hit me!" Lucas said untroubled, all ears.

"Well, um, I'm just wondering…"

The drake anxiously tapped his hand on his thigh a little and subconsciously avoided the cat's eye, afraid to ask. "How do you live with all this? I mean… How do you handle the fact that you know that you've got other people's blood on your hands, and that you've lied to hundreds of people? I-I'm just wondering because, well… _I_ feel _terrible_ for what happened to Mr. Sullivan, even though I _know_ it was just an accident", he said in a sincere try not to sound too accusing and glanced a little out toward the river. It was well known that Lucas was afraid of water, so he assumed that if the cat would get too aggravated, that would probably be his best way to escape. "How do you get through something like this?"

Lucas sighed.

"Reggie, I'm going to be completely honest with you. It is _not_ easy", the feline told serious. "I live in constant fear, because I _know_ how much I'm risking. People look up to me like I'm some kind of… _god_ , and I'm not allowed to make mistakes or cause any scandals. But I'm just a regular person, I'm not perfect!"

Lucas slowly stopped walking and looked reflectively away between the tall trees that grew to the right of the trail. "When I started this organization I had _no_ idea that it would become such a big phenomenon. I've never really been the kind of person who yearned for power or wanted to be anyone's hero. I just wanted to be a good citizen and help making the world a little better. And then, all of a sudden, I _stood_ there with everyone's expectations on my shoulder, and if I would so make _one_ tiny mistake everything would fall. People expect me to be the better person and that I have the answers to everything. Every time we lost a trial everyone turns to me in disappointment as if they thought it was all _my_ fault. I'm not allowed to make mistakes. I'm not allowed to be sick, upset or have a bad day. I'm not allowed to _be_. In the end, I was just so busy to be this flawless and perfect guy that I suddenly realized… that I didn't even know who _I_ was anymore."

It had never really occurred to Reginald exactly how hard Lucas probably must be working and how many there actually was who relied on him. Being the leader of such a large association like O.P.A.L. must be very exhausting. No wonder he had trouble remembering the duck's name.

"I just got so tired of everything going _down_ , dragging me involuntarily along in the fall", the cat continued jaded. "I just wanted to get _rid off_ all the problems. So… when I got the chance one time… I decided to take it. It was about five years ago when I, coincidentally, happened to watch one of my opponents, a guy who the Opals for _years_ had been struggled with to get condemned, in trouble with a gang of street gangsters. I could have saved him, calling the police or something, but instead… I just choose to walk by. The guy was never seen again. For a long time I wondered whether I made the right decision or not, and I couldn't help but to feel like I was holding the responsibility somewhere, even though I technically hadn't really done anything. I kind of expected to receive some sort of big punishment from the greater power, or something like that. But instead, wherever I looked, all I noticed was _positive_ developments. Many people were _happy_ that he was gone, and things actually _did_ turn out for the better. That made me think: If all of this came out of me making the wrong decision, then it can't have been that bad. It was also then that I realized that the society _needed_ someone to turn to when the moral system didn't work. Some kind of diabolic angel. It makes sense, if you want to defeat an evil person you need to play their game. You need a demon to take down a demon. So, I decided to become this dark defender of the good. I was aware of that I might was going to have to lose a part of my soul in the process, but I was willing to do that, as long as it meant that innocent lives would be spared. I also understood that I couldn't let anyone know, because then everything that I've worked for, including the organization, would be lost. But… I do think that the most thing that I really feared was… that I finally would have to face myself. Since I'm living kind of a double-life I've always been able to escape when one part got too much to handle. I was afraid that anyone would get to know, because then… my both worlds would collide…"

The cat suddenly turned his head towards Reginald, looking all miserable and frightened. "I have to confess, when I told you yesterday, that was seriously the _scariest_ moment in my entire life. And that says a lot considering what a guy like me have been through. Watching _your_ reaction… it was like watching myself staring back at the person I really was. A monster… I was terrified. Really. But yet, afterwards, I… I was honestly very relieved. It… It was such a _liberation_ to finally be able to share! I've been so lonely for such a long time, but not anymore. Now I finally have someone to talk with!"

The teary-eyed Birman suddenly hugged the mallard, extremely grateful.

"Oh, you can't imagine how _glad_ I am!" the cat exclaimed, loosening the grip. Tenderly, he took a hold of the fowl's both hands and looked euphoric at him with his watery eyes. " _You_ are the only person who truly knows me for real!"

"I am?" Reginald asked perplexed. It felt weird, even a little awkward, seeing his usually seemingly so self-confident leader suddenly in a such fragile state.

"Yes! And I understand exactly what you mean when you said that you still see Sullivan. 'Cause I do that too! With all of _my_ victims. Though, if I'm correct, I suspect that what _you_ watched happen to Sullivan in that lab probably was fifteen times worse than what _I_ ever have had to watch, you poor thing!" Lucas let go of his hands and commiserative rubbed the bird's shoulder. "You see, ahrm, I'm usually not around when my victims dies", he admitted a bit sheepishly.

"… Oh", Reginald uttered, not sure whether he thought that was a good or a bad thing.

"Yeaah… I usually simply just tamper with their cars or trick the mafia on them… It has actually only been a really few rare occasions when I've had to… pull the trigger myself." Lucas lifted his hand and pretended shooting with his index finger. "Yeaah, I hate that… And then you have take care of the remains, and all the blood… Brr!"

The feline cringed at the thought in disgust. "But you know what, it has been worth it. Thanks to me our society has become much better. _That's_ just what helps me keep moving forwards. I am willing to sacrifice my own innocence if it means that others get to keep theirs. And that includes you, Reggie. I know that what happened to Sullivan was just an accident. You're a good person, you don't deserve getting punished! That's why I'm going to do everything in my might to help you with all this. After all, that's what's been my goal all along, protecting the good ones. And you're one of them."

The always so emotional duck couldn't help but getting touched by those last words. And he who'd just been about to start getting used to the sad fact that no one probably cared about him or appreciated him. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe there still _was_ some form of kindness in the world after all.

"You know what, come to think about it, we have pretty much in common you and I", Lucas said. "We both want to do good in the world, and we're sharing each other's secrets. That's why I think you and I need to stay close. I've been thinking a little and have decided to… Heh! This is actually the main reason to why I sought you up in the first place. Anyway, I've decided to make _you_ the vice president of the Opals, and my closets man."

Reginald was taken by surprised by those news so it took him a couple of milliseconds before he really understood what the cat's words actually meant.

"What?! Really?! Me?!" he asked stumped.

"Yes! Why not?! You deserve it! I mean, you've already shown you're reliable and a decent guy, and you're also the top student of St. Canard's University. Man, I can't believe I didn't know about that earlier. You're an important addition for the Opals."

"Wow, jeez, I don't know what to say", the duck said honored, still a little in shock.

"You don't need to say anything! I couldn't have thought of anyone better! Besides, you're the one who knows me best, and the only one I really can trust. You and I are going to have to stick together from now on. We need to be able to look after one another, help each other out and be there."

"You mean like… friends?" Reginald asked hopeful.

"Like _best friends!_ " Lucas declared exuberant. "From now on, you and I are going to be partners, bros, _friends till the end, man!_ "

Okay, now I _know_ that I'm dreaming, Reginald thought overwhelmed. During all his years of loneliness he had always dreamed about having a best friend. Though, that his best friend was going to be the great _Lucas_ had been too good to even _dare_ to dream about.

"You'll see, Reggie, you and I are going to have the time of our lives!" Lucas said and put one arm around the drake's shoulders. "Though, since all of this is happening very fast, I think it's best if we keep this just between the two of us now in the beginning. People might become suspicious over that you and I all of a sudden starts hanging together and me making you the vice president just like that. If we're unlucky someone might figure out our connection with the disappearance of Sullivan. Believe me, the police can be like real _piranhas_ sometimes. They're not going to miss out on investigating _every_ tiny outstanding detail. Trust me, _I_ _know._ "

"Yeah, I can see that", Reginald understood, and it was true. Considering that Lucas just a few days ago didn't even know Reginald's name, it would definitely create a lot of questions about why _his_ status in the organization suddenly got such a lift.

"Alright, so we have an agreement then?" Lucas said. "We'll lay low as long as Sullivan's case is still fresh. We won't socialize with each other in public, not even among the Opals."

"Right!" Reginald said and nodded copying.

"Great, but no need to feel down. It will only be now during the upcoming weeks, and we'll still be able to hang out in private", the cat said comforting and lightly punched the duck encouraging on the shoulder. "Then, you and I are going to have so much _fun_ together! Believe me, you don't even what fun _is_ until you have experienced it with _me_. You'll see, Reggie, there's a whole new world opening up before you!"

That, Reginald had no doubt in, and it sure would turn out that he was anything but wrong.


	7. All I Wanted…

**7\. All I Wanted…**

Reginald Bushroot had always been a bit of a dreamer. He had always liked imagining things, come up with ideas and trying to figure out how to make them possible, a quality that he as a science student always had been very good for him. But not even in his wildest dreams had he ever been able to guess where he would have been today. Vice president of O.P.A.L. _and_ Lucas Whiskers's best friend! Not too bad huh? Sure, Lucas might not have been the saint Reginald always had imagined him as, but he wasn't a thoroughly evil person either. He just wanted what's best for everybody.

Reginald had in the beginning been a bit worried that Lucas might would force him to take part in the cat's criminal activities, but that turned out not to be any problem.

"What I do is _my_ business, and I would _never_ force _anyone_ into anything they don't want. Throughout my whole time as the leader of O.P.A.L., I never actually _asked_ anyone to follow me", he had clarified, to Reginald's relief.

Lucas had told him a little closer about more exactly how he plans and how he picks out the time of the victims death. He always let chance decide. This, by throwing his dice. If it lands with number one upward, the death will occur within a year, number two _after_ one year, three after two years, and so on. If it lands on a six he would throw it again _and_ add five years on that next roll.

"In this way, it becomes more difficult for the police to notice any connection between the crimes", the cat had explained.

He had also added that if the person in any way during the period actually would change for the better, he would spare his or her life.

"Sadly, that's very rare", he had told sorry.

Just that specific dice meant very much to Lucas. It had belonged to the board game that he and his deceased baby-sister Luna used to play together. It had been her favorite. She was the girl on the picture that Lucas had in his office. It was when she, about six years ago, passed away when she got hit by a car, driven by a couple of lawbreakers, whom also died in the crash themselves, that Lucas had realized how unfair the world really was.

"She was just a child! She didn't deserve that fate!"

After that incident, he decided that he would do everything in his power to ensure that right people would get what they deserved, something his sister never got. The dice was a reminder of that. It was suiting to let an object that had belonged to someone who got treated unfair to render justice for others, he thought.

When all came about, Lucas was really just a sad poor misunderstood guy who just wanted to do what's right. Pretty much alike Reginald.

The duck also had gotten to take a glimpse at Lucas schedule, and found out, to his great relief, that the feline didn't have any victims scheduled for the upcoming two years. So he didn't have to think of that part in a looong time.

As a friend, Lucas was just the kind of person Reginald had always assumed him to be like, friendly, caring, glad and regardful. It was hard to even think of him as a cold-blooded serial killer.

Having a best friend was just as great and wonderful as the duck had always imagined it to be, though also a bit more time-consuming and tiresome than he had thought. Since Reginald rarely hung out with people at his spear-time, he was used to have a lot of time spending on his studies and his greenhouse, something he had had to sacrifice a part of now. But it was definitely worth it. He only had to make sure he didn't fell too far behind on his works.

Since Reginald's a student and Lucas had his work with the organization to do, the two friends usually used to hang out on the late afternoons or evenings. Since Sullivan's case was still fresh, they therefore also mostly hang out just the two of them, either in Lucas's van or in Reginald's greenhouse. The duck had honestly been quite nervous when they for the first time agreed on that they would be at his house the next time. It might seem strange, but he really wasn't used to having people over at his place.

The mallard did usually tend to carefully look after his plants and keep his garden nice. However, since it's a very large greenhouse, only that part took pretty much of his time, which resulted in that he usually put less weight on the other parts of his home. The day before Lucas's visits, he had therefore desperately struggled to make the place to look at least somewhat homey. He had spent hours on sweeping the floor, put away all the shovels, weed tool and other thing that used to lie scattered here and there, hide away the fertilizer sacks in one of corners, find a good place to park the wheelbarrow (which _always_ somehow managed to stand in the way just about _anywhere_ he parked it), cleaning all the windows (Ugh!), clear up the desktops and at least try to take away most of the spider web. (The spiders, however, he chose to save for Spike, his gluttonous Venus flytrap.) Sometimes he just wished that he simply could just _order_ the plants to help him out.

Lucas sure had been impressed by Reginald's household and enjoyed the indoor forest like a tomato plant enjoys water.

"You know, we should let the Opals have all the meetings _here_ instead of in that dull old cottage", the cat said while admiring the rare rubber tree Reginald had imported back home from South America. "This is just our style!"

"Yeah, right…!" the duck agreed a little nervously and prayer in silent that the Birman wouldn't turn his head right upwards and notice the spider that was dangling in a thread only a couple of inches right above him.

While Reginald already knew quite a lot about Lucas from before, Lucas on the other hand didn't know much about Reginald, so the cat had been eager to get to know him better. The drake had never felt so special and so popular before, something he deeply did appreciate. No one had ever shown interest in him earlier.

The duck shared among others thing his knowledge about his greatest interest, plants, something the cat found pretty interesting, though maybe not quite to the same degree. Lucas himself, however, was very good at tinkering with machines, cars and other mechanicals gadgets (something Reginald of course already was well aware of) and gladly shared his knowledge there. Lucas helped among other things to fix Reginald's electric hedge trimmer, which had been broken since a few weeks back and which the duck never really had taken his time to turn in for repair. Lucas also had a big interest in cooking and Reginald happily provided him with organically grown crops from his greenhouse so that they could make delicious dinners together. Reginald had never ever had as much fun as during those evenings.

At the Opal's meetings, however, the two friends usually ignored each other to not revealed their cover. But Lucas was still careful to ensure that his best friend wouldn't feel too forgotten. At times when they passed by each other, the cat sometimes discreetly sneaks the duck small notes, that said things like: _"Can you, please, bring some of that special thyme of yours for this afternoon?"_ or _"Remind me that I have to replace those hideous curtains"_ , or _"Albert's hat kind of reminds a bit of a bird nest, doesn't it?"_. Reginald loved getting those little notes, even though they didn't really say anything specific. He was just glad to know that Lucas was thinking of him.

That no one was aware of the Opals's new vice president or the relationship between Reginald and Lucas didn't really bothered the mallard that much. He was just happy to have a friend and someone who cared about him. He also honestly kind of found the whole thing pretty exciting. It was like their own little secret. Besides, people would get to know it eventually, and when that happens, everything will be different.

Reginald hadn't at first really realized what it actually meant to be vice president of O.P.A.L. He was not only going to get the chance to join Lucas to a lot of interesting events and be involved in important decisions, he was also _finally_ going to be respected and people would listen to his opinions. Bullies like Gary and Larson wouldn't even dare to lay a finger on or even say a bad word to him. That, Lucas had already promised to make sure of. And Rhoda… She would _definitely_ be impressed. At last he could prove himself worthy of her! He could hardly wait until he gets to tell her!

"Why settle for Rhoda? You can get _any_ girl in the world if you'd like!" Lucas had illuminated.

But it wasn't really that what it was all about. For the first time in his life, he finally felt like he was somebody. There was a completely new road lying before him.

Unfortunately, that was not the path that he was going to follow…

Everything turned that day when a tremendous storm had pulled in over the city. Reginald was in full drudgery weeding his garden, and the heavy rain spatted so loud against his glass-covered household that it took him a while before he noticed that someone was knocking on the door. Through the flowing water washing down the small glass window on the gray front door, he saw the dancing silhouette of the gray-white cat under an azure umbrella. Reginald opened up the door for him.

"Hello buddy…!" he greeted cheerfully.

"We've got trouble", Lucas said short, hastily stepping over the threshold while at the same time folding down the umbrella, so rashly that the water splattered.

"Trouble?! What kind of trouble?" Reginald wondered worried.

Ruffled, the cat put, almost threw, the wet umbrella into Reginald's umbrella stand by the door.

"I need you to be honest with me, have _you_ been in contact with a Jake Gander Hooter?" Lucas asked him serious.

"What? Who? No I haven't", the duck told honest, and confused.

"Oh thank GOSH!" the Birman groaned and leaned his head back in relief. "Well, at least there's _one_ good news today."

"W-Wait! What exactly did you mean with that we've got trouble? And who is this Jake Gander Hooter?" Reginald asked bewildered.

"He's an agent of S.H.U.S.H. who apparently has been following up the cases of all my victims", Lucas explained stressed. "Since they all had business with O.P.A.L. he suspects that someone in the organization, or at least someone with connection to it, is responsible of all these deaths or "mysterious disappearances". But that's still not the worst part. On top of that, they've found Sullivan's car."

"They have?!" Reginald exclaimed horrified.

It turned out that when the president had arrived at Ajax he had gotten there by car, something Lucas had informed the drake earlier. When the cat later had returned to the company that night to clean away all the evidences he had also had to get rid of Sullivan's car by dumping it into Audubon Bay.

"Yes, some _darn DIVERS_ found it on the sea bed just a couple of days ago", the cat told frustrated and restlessly began pacing back and fourth in the greenhouse, nervously biting his nails. "Inside the car, they found Sullivan's ID, wallet and bank card. When the agency then got permission to look at Sullivan's account history they noticed that he hasn't done any payments or larger transfers at all during the latest weeks. So now they've come to the conclusion that that big dope likely is dead."

"Whiiiich is correct…"

"Of course it is! We both know that!" Lucas almost snapped. He sighed and worrisomely rested his forehead in his hand. "Still, it doesn't ends there. I was interrogated by Agent Hooter just a couple of hours ago and apparently he's been keeping an eye on me for quite a while now without me knowing. And since he got to know from the police that I've been interested in the president's disappearance he now believes that _I_ killed Sullivan, and the others as well!"

Reginald carefully thought through what the cat just had said.

"Well, heh! That's kind of ironic, isn't it? Since Sullivan was the only one you _didn't_ kill. That was me", the duck pointed out, who couldn't help but seeing the irony a little in how St. Canard's most notorious serial killer gets convicted for a crime he surprisingly did _not_ commit.

"You think this is _funny_ , Reginald? You think this is some kind of _joke?!_ " the cat asked, suddenly staring angry at the waterfowl with those deep blue eyes.

"Huh?! N-No!" Reginald stuttered a bit frightened.

"Is this all just a _game_ for you?!" the cat asked aggravated and slowly walked up to him. "DON'T YOU GET THAT IF THEY FIND OUT ABOUT ME THEY'RE GOING TO GET TO YOU TOO?!"

The scared duck worriedly withdrew and shrunk a little. He had never seen Lucas so angry before. He even feared that the cat might start hitting him.

"I don't think a guy like you would do very well in prison", the cat hissed threatening. "That is, if you somehow magically manage to escape _the chair!_ "

"B-But… I-I thought you said you had the police under control! You-You said so!" Reginald pitifully remarked stuttering.

"The police, yes. But not _S.H.U.S.H.!_ " the Birman clarified and once again started pacing around, pondering. "It wasn't until today that I even got to know that they had taken over many of the cases that are connected to me! Ugh, this is bad. It won't take to long 'til they start interrogating the other members of the organization as well, if they haven't already begun… _BUUUT_ …" Lucas turned on his heel back to Reginald again, with one index finger pointing up in the air. "… _luckily_ we are still a few steps ahead. Agent Hooter still doesn't know about _you._ Only _that_ gives us a big advantage. You see, Reggie, _this_ was why I suggested that we should keep a low profile!"

Almost a bit manic, the cat shook that invisible orange in his hand again in the air towards the duck, something Reginald by now had noted was a tic the cat did whenever he was excited or upset.

"And that's not _all_ we've got", the Birman continued. "Hooter doesn't either know _exactly_ what happened to Sullivan since his body's never found, simply because, well, it doesn't even _exist_ anymore."

Reginald felt a shiver run up his spine when Lucas reminded him of that awful memory. The bulldog's hideous scream was still keeping him awake at night.

"I've had all of this in my mind ever since the night we fled from Ajax Chemicals", the cat told, and suddenly seemed pretty calm. "So, I've already had a plan ready for us in store, just in case something like this would happen. In business like these, there's _nothing_ called 'being too careful', you know."

"Oh, well, that's great!" Reginald said and relieved wiped the sweat of his forehead with his forearm, partly actually because his bestie's aggressively seem to have faded away. "So, what's this plan of yours?"

"Oh, you see, what we need is a scapegoat, someone _else_ that can take the fall for us, someone we know _for sure_ doesn't have a full proof alibi for that night", Lucas explained. "I'd sincerely hoped that we wouldn't have had to do this, but considering the circumstances, plus the fact that now also _my_ reputation is at stake, I find it necessary."

"Oh…", Reginald said, a bit unsure. "Okay, sooo, who is going to take the blame?"

Lucas quietly sighed a bit anxious for himself. He knew the mallard wasn't going to like this.

"One of the persons that were with us at the company that night, and who also was alone during the same time as we were", he said. "Miss Rhoda Dendron."


	8. The Shortest Straw

**8\. The Shortest Straw**

Her name came as such a shock for Reginald that he hardly believed the cat's words at first.

"What…?!" He was so stunned that his vocal cord betrayed him so the word came out rather like a faint whisper. Aghast, he slowly shook his head. "No!"

"Reggie, she was the only one besides the two of us who were alone in the building for a longer time", Lucas reminded him. "During that time she could've easily made her way to Sullivan's office, she had the map remember. There, she would have found enough information so that she later, after we had left, could have gone to his house and executed him."

"But… she didn't…", the duck remarked.

"No, but she _could_ have", Lucas continued. "And it _is_ true that _she_ was the one who asked _you_ to go to the other lab in advance, right?"

"Well… yes, but… No! Not her! Sh-She doesn't deserve that!" Reginald stuttered firm, with a lump in his throat.

"Hey, Reg, I know you have a thing for the cute little four-eyes, but now you really need to be reasonable and think for what's best", Lucas said low, slightly annoyed.

" _No!_ Th-This is wrong! She's a good person! She doesn't deserve that fate! I… I _refuse_ to let her take the blame!" the drake said determinately.

"You refuse you say?" Lucas asked serious.

"Y-Y-Yes", Reginald stammered upright in a failed attempt to seem more fearless than he really felt. Has he made a complete fool out of himself now? Was the Birman going to be very angry with him?

For a number of seconds, Lucas just glared at the mallard. The white bird felt his courage decrease more and more as the time ticked by and he had to force himself not to drop the determined face.

Lucas finally sighed.

"Well, I can't _force_ you into agreeing on something you don't like", he said and shrugged a bit sorry. "And I would _never EVER_ induce myself upon something that I know my best friend wouldn't like."

The cat slowly began to wander about again.

Reginald was pretty surprised, not to mention relieved, that the feline was taking it all so well.

"You know, Reggie, you're right. It's wrong framing innocents. I don't like it either actually", he continued. "You know what? Why don't we just do what's the only _right_ thing to do in this case? Why don't we just _tell_ Agent Hooter the truth about who _really_ killed Sullivan?"

Reginald reacted to the cat's last words and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, w-wait a second here…!" the duck inflicted and anxiously went up to him, hasty waving his hands.

"What's the matter, Reginald? I thought you _liked_ doing the right thing?" Lucas said and grinned maliciously at him.

"Um, yeah, but…"

"'Cause that _is_ what happened, right? _You_ murdered Sullivan!" the cat reminded him accusingly.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Reginald shouted in despair, almost on the verge of tears, and placed his hands on his head. "I never meant to do it! You _know_ that! I am not a murderer!"

"THERE! _EXACTLY!_ That makes you an innocent _too!_ " Lucas pointed out. "You deserve getting convicted as much as she does! Sadly, someone has to take the hit because S.H.U.S.H. won't give in until they've found the culprit! And if it won't be her, _you_ are going to have to take her place. And believe me when I say: I will _personally_ make sure of that."

"Oh yeah! W-Well why don't _I_ just let everyone know all about _your_ secrets?" Reginald threatened with and tried to sound more confident than he really was.

Lucas chuckled lightly.

"Heh, you wouldn't", he said sure, "be _caauuse_ that would only hurt the Opals _more_ than it would hurt _me._ And _you_ don't have the heart to do that against them."

"Oh… Right…", the duck remembered discouraged. He had totally forgotten about that specific part.

"Besides, it's already to late", the cat reported all of the sudden. "I were at the junkyard right before I got here and I've already placed a button from Miss Dendron's dress inside Sullivan's car. It won't be long until S.H.U.S.H. finds her fingerprints on it."

"What?! NO!" Reginald cried aghast. "You just told me you wouldn't do anything without counseling with me _first!_ "

"I've only placed out the _preparations_ ", Lucas clarified calm. "The agency won't find the thing until they search through the car more careful a second time, which should be sometime during the upcoming weeks. I hid it somewhere where people normally don't look."

It was as if all hope just ran out of duck like the rainwater running down the glass walls of his greenhouse. The love of his life was going to be taken in for a crime _he_ had committed. And there was nothing he could do about it.

"You know what, Reggie? I think you should be more _thankful_ after everything I've done for you", Lucas thought. "I could have just _left_ you there in the lab, lonely and miserable, and just let you take care of your problems on your own. _I_ could have _easily_ just _a few hours ago_ told _everything_ about you to Agent Hooter! Then I would have had all _my_ problems solved as well! But no _,_ instead I've helped you. I've given you an alibi for the Opals, I've misled the police, and now I'm even willing to sacrifice one of my finest supporters. _Everything_ just to save _your._ Stinking. FEATHERS!"

The cat poked the duck three times on his chest, one for each of the last three words he spoke, so hard that Reginald fell backwards into one of his garden chairs in white metal.

"You think I _like_ having to do this?! You think I'm _enjoying_ all of this?!" the Birman asked furious. "I _also_ care about Rhoda! She's a good friend of mine, and an important addition to the organization. Though, if I would have to choose between you and her, I would have chosen _you_ every time. Why? Because I believe you've got potentials to actually become something big. And because I care about you. _You_ are more valuable to me than she is. That's why I personally rather see _her_ go than you. Though, if looking from an objective view, any of the two outcomes would actually work just as fine for my part. So it'll be all up to your decision. Either you help me framing her, or _you_ 'll take her place."

Reginald hesitantly bit his lower bill and thoughtfully looked to the side, looking at his bed of beautiful light-pink roses with magenta tiger stripes, a breed called Rosa Mundi, that was planted next to them.

"Well, Reggie, how's it going to be?" Lucas asked, sincere but patiently.

The young drake sighed.

"Why her…?" he asked hopelessly, without looking up. "Out of _all_ the people in the whole wide world, why _her?_ " The mallard finally lifted his head and looked pleading at the cat. "Couldn't you just have picked _Castor_ … or FEMME?! She's got a criminal record already!"

"Yes, as a _burglar_ , not a murderer", Lucas pointed out. "Besides, both she and Castor can vouch for each other since they were both together the whole time. And Fethry might have been spotted by a passerby with the car. No, Rhoda was the only one who was completely alone for a longer among of time. Well, Reggie, what's your choice? Are you in or out?"

Reginald sighed hopelessly. What more could he do?

"I'm in… of course…"

"Excellent, I _knew_ you would come to turn in the end", Lucas said and content patted the duck on the shoulder. "You're just so lovely… twisted, you know?"

"What?" Reginald asked shocked.

"Yeah! You're the kind of guy who _says_ you want to do what's right, but when it all comes down you're nothing but a predictable coward who'd do anything to save your own tail feathers. I like that about you. You are kindhearted enough to want to do good, but not foolish enough to not think of what's best for yourself."

Is he trying to compliment me or insult me, Reginald wondered confused.

"And when it comes to Rhoda, I don't think you need to worry that much. Girls don't usually get that big of a punishment in court", the cat said frivolously and waved a little.

"Really…?" Reginald wondered doubting. He fervently wished he could believe that, but the pessimism within him spoke differently.

"Yeah, and if I'm going to be perfectly honest I think it'd be better for you if you just try to forget about her. She doesn't even like you that way."

"She doesn't…?" Reginald asked and felt as if a huge heavy stone suddenly pulled him downwards.

"Trust me, I'm more experienced than you in that area and I can see that. To her, you will _never_ be anything more than just a _friend_. I'm sorry to have to give you the news like this, but it was probably better that you heard it from me rather than from her and making a fool out of yourself." Lucas put a comforting arm around the sad and shocked duck, rubbing his shoulder a little. "In one way, it's actually _good_ that we're getting rid of her. She didn't deserve you anyway. Now you can finally stop wasting your time on her and instead find someone else, someone who's _really_ worthy of you."

Reginald was too devastated to even be able to perceive anything of what the cat just said. Could he really be right? Now that he thought about it, he realized that it really shouldn't have come as a surprise. He should have known that a girl like Rhoda _never_ would like someone like him. How could he be so _stupid_ who thought that he _actually_ would have a chance?!

"What do you want me to do?" the drake asked low and gloomy, without looking at the cat.

"All you really need to do is to keep standing by what we've already agreed on. If the Opals ask about the Ajax incident, you say you and I were together the whole time. And if S.H.U.S.H., or anyone else outside, asks, you just say you don't know anything. _And_ , if it would turn out to be necessary, I just _might_ have to ask you to make an anonymous call to the police and tell them you saw someone lurking outside Sullivan's house the night he disappeared."

"Okay", Reginald agreed sighing.

"You'll see, Reginald, it's going to be hard now in the beginning, but in the end you're going to see that this was the best you could have done", Lucas comforted.

If this was the best to do, then why did it feel like he was just about to do his biggest mistake ever?


	9. Tangled

**9\. Tangled**

"This must be a misunderstanding!"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Dendron", the police officer said and closed the shining handcuffs around the young female duck's thin wrists to a clicking sound. "You are hereby under arrest for the murder of Mr. Roland D. Sullivan!"

"But I didn't _do_ anything!" Rhoda cried in despair.

"Then, how do you explain that your fingerprints were found in the president's car?!" the police questioned stern.

"I don't _know!_ Really! I've never even _met_ the man!" the duck desperately tried to convince him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you're coming with me", the policeman said doubting and began dragging the young mallard along towards the exit.

"But you're making a terrible mistake! I didn't do it! I swear! You have to _believe_ me!"

She turned her head around, making the long brown wavy hair sway, and looked pleadingly back at Reginald. Reginald could see the terror in the pretty, confused duck's face while she helplessly was being led off toward the exit gate. The door was opened from the outside by none other than Sullivan. On the other side waited nothing but a huge pitch-black dark swirling void. The big bulldog stared hatred at Reginald with half of his face decaying.

" _Now look what you've done, you little varmint!_ " he said accusingly to the drake in a spooky echoing voice. Suddenly he started floating right toward him headfirst. The closer he got the more his whole body was decomposed, turning into dust. " _She's going to be sent to the same place as you sent ME!_ "

"NOOOO!"

The canine's angry screaming decaying face of dust flew straight at him and the waterfowl felt the thousand grains hurtfully whip his feather-covered skin like sand in a sandstorm. It was like a nightmare, and fortunately that's all it was. But the mallard still couldn't feel relieved, because he knew it wouldn't be long until the whole show was going to be played out in real life. And the worst thing was that he wouldn't be able to do anything but just stand there and watch.

In one of the university's study halls, the two ducks sat by one of the tables, helping each other out on answering the questions in microbiology they had gotten for homework. Reginald was glad to have some other, _less_ complicated, work to occupy his mind with that temporary could put his other problems on hold for at least a while. Compared to his life for the moment, the problems on the school paper were EASY to solve! At least they _had_ solutions! Lucky microbes!

Moreover, he also got a chance to get to hang out with Rhoda, something he later never would get to do again. Discreetly he glanced to the right at the brown-haired female duck, who thoughtfully was rubbing the pink eraser at the end of her pencil against one of her eyebrows while reading inside the open school book lying on the table in front of her, blissfully unaware of the fate that was awaiting her in a few days…

He was going to miss her. He was going to miss her lovely smile that always brightened up her surrounding, her soothing muted voice, that little brown curl of hair that was sticking out and coiled up a little by the temple. But what he would miss the most was probably this, just hanging out together, talk, discuss, just to be her friend…

"What did you answer at question seven?" she asked suddenly and raised her head at him.

"Huh? Uh, let me check!" Reginald said, a bit unprepared at getting the question, and hurriedly glanced through his document. Question seven? What was that about again?

He found the right question, which said: _'Write down which types of algae that belong to the plant kingdom and which belong to the protist kingdom.'_

Right! It was _that_ one!

"Well, in the literature it says that the algae belonging to the plant kingdom are green algae, red algae and brown algae. Though, personally, I don't think brown algae should be considered as plants. They aren't even close related to the other two! Red- and green algae share at least half of the genes in their genomes. The brown algae's closest genetic relatives however are the yellow-green algae, _and they are considered protists!_ " Reginald criticized, almost upset.

"Yeah, I was thinking the exact same thing", Rhoda said. "Did you mention any of that in your answer?"

"Yeah, I wrote it down on a separate paper. I didn't have enough space on the questionnaire, you see", he told and took out a handwritten document, almost completely covered with graphite gray remarks, which had been in the back of his pile of papers. "I did the same with the blue-green algae, which I by the way only placed among the protists in parenthesize. Honestly, I don't _understand_ why people persist with seeing them as algae at all. They are _prokaryote! They got no cell nucleus for crying out loud!_ "

"I totally agree! And according to the latest news there are now even more researches that think the blue-green algae should be classified as bacteria."

"Exactly! That's what I've _always_ said, but does anyone listen to me? _Nooo!_ "

"Well, it's easy to be fooled when something looks like or acts as something else. But everything isn't always what it seems", Rhoda said.

"… No… that's right…", said Reginald, who suddenly came to think of Lucas and thus got reminded of the clutter he had gotten himself into.

I can't do it, he thought. Not to her. What made Lucas him believe that he ever would be able to live with himself afterwards?!

 _She doesn't even like you._

Alright, exactly _who_ was it that said that? Yes, Lucas! And exactly _how_ could he be so sure of that? Reginald had known Rhoda longer than he had. She was always so nice to him and they had a lot in common. They could sit for hours just talking about things like… algae…

 _Well, THAT's romantic, Romeo!_

Okaaay… that might not sound so romantic really and, sure, he might needed to work a little more on that part, but… Still, she wouldn't be spending time with him if there were absolutely _nothing_ between the two of them. Right? Yeah, what made that cat think that _he_ always knew best?!

 _Well, he DOES have had a little better luck with girls than you've had._

Ah, shut it!

"By the way, a man from S.H.U.S.H. talked to me yesterday, Agent Jake Gander Hooter", Rhoda suddenly told.

"WHAT?!" Reginald exclaimed, a little too loud. "Uh… okay, so, ahrm, what did he want?"

He did his best to try to act calmer than he really was. They had _already_ started the interrogation?!

"He wondered if I knew anything about the disappearing of that director of Ajax Chemicals… Oh, what's his name again…?"

"Roland David Sullivan", Reginald, who'd been sympathetic enough to look up his victim's full name, informed low.

"Oh! Yeah, right! Sullivan! Apparently they've found new information about him and they think that he may have been _murdered_ ", she told a bit appalled.

"Mhm…", Reginald mumbled with an unsteady voice.

"Yeah, and since we in O.P.A.L. have had a couple of complains against Ajax Chemicals, Agent Hooter believes someone connected to the organization may be responsible for his disappearance."

Reginald felt a bead of sweat start running down his forehead.

"Did he talk to you too?" she asked. "I heard he had talked to others in the organization too, including Lucas, Castor and Femme."

"Um, nope! I've never even heard his name before!" he lied quickly and avoided her eyes. "So, um, what did you tell him?"

"I told what we all had agreed on saying if someone would ever ask any of us about that night. I told I didn't know anything and that I'd been home the night he disappeared. But, honestly, I really do think we should tell Agent Hooter the truth. Then they at least can establish that the president wasn't at the company that night."

"What?! NO! W-We can't let them know we were there!" Reginald cried horrified. "T-That would ruin _everything!_ "

"Yeah, I know. You're living on a scholarship, and Femme is paroled", Rhoda said a bit sighing. "That's why I didn't tell anything. I didn't want to cause anyone trouble."

She lied for _my_ sake, Reginald thought touched as his spirit slowly soured up to cloud nine.

"Urgh! It's just so _annoying!_ " she suddenly groaned. "Just because we had complains against Ajax Chemicals, people immediately just _assume_ that any of _us_ killed the CEO! Even though we represent the complete opposite! It's so sad. The whole hippie-culture's going to have to pay just because of what some _idiot_ did!"

Reginald fell like a rock back down to earth again, hitting the ground hard.

"So… um, y-you really think it could have been someone in the organization?" he asked carefully, pretending to be looking at a black-and-white picture in his open textbook on the table depicting some greatly enlarged bacteria.

"Well, I really don't know anything, but it doesn't sound very likely if you'd ask me. Our goal is to make peace, not war. Only a really awful person could have committed a such horrible crime."

Stricken, the drake dug his bill even deeper into the book till he finally touched it with the tip of his beak. He picked up the book on its edge with his trembling hands, trying to hide his guilty face behind the cover.

"Wh… What if the person didn't do it on purpose?" he remarked. "M-Maybe it was just an accident."

"If it just was an accident he or she probably would have come forward by now", Rhoda said. "After all, that person wouldn't have to worry about getting condemned in that case."

"S-Something might be hindering him?" Reginald stuttered behind the cover. "H-He might have been somewhere he shouldn't have been… a-and if somebody found out he would be in big trouble…? OR HER!"

"Well, that's not impossible…", Rhoda said a little pensive. "But still, isn't it worse to have someone else's death on your conscience? I don't think that person is feeling very well now in that case, unless he or she is completely heartless."

Yes, that is true, thought Reginald afflicted. He didn't feel well at all.

He really wished that he could tell her the truth about the whole thing. Then maybe she would understand.

"I feel sorry for that person whatever the case is", Rhoda told sorry. "I feel sad if he or she can't feel guilt, and if the person does then they probably must be feeling really bad and incredibly lonely right now."

The muscles around the young drake's lower eyelids were starting to contract and his eyes were about to get watery. She really pulled every single word out of his bill.

"It must be really hard carrying something like that, and not have anyone to talk to", she continued. "I think it would be such more liberating for the person if he or she just confessed. Then they could get help getting through all the sorrow…"

"IkilledSullivan", Reginald suddenly mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"HUH?! N-NOTHING! I-I was just… trying to remember the Latin name for this bacteria!" he lied and pointed his shaky finger at one of the black-and-white microbes in the picture in the book to show. "A-Akilsul ivanius I think it's called."

What was he thinking?! He couldn't let her get involved in all this! Lucas would be absolutely furious! Who knows what he would do to her? And then to him…

Rhoda frowned puzzled at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

No.

"Of course I am!" he lied with his voice a little more high-pitched than usual, while feeling a drop of sweat running down his forehead and being stopped up by the eyebrow.

"Are you sure?" Rhoda asked a bit doubting. "You seem a little… tense today."

"Tense…? Oh, um, you see, it's just that I… I _really_ need to get a good score on this course! O-Or else I'll risk loosing my scholarship!" he said, and canalized all his worries toward his schoolwork. "I can't afford _doing_ that!" Almost in despair, he frantically began rummaging through his stack of papers.

Rhoda laughed a little.

"Hahaha! Oh, you're such a nerd!" she giggled.

Despite the playful tone in her voice all Reginald perceived was a swarm of sharp arrows going straight through him.

"I am…?" he asked, quite hurt.

He had been called that so many times in his life already and it had always been meant as a something negative. Was that really how she saw him?

"Well, _yeah!_ But that's a _good_ thing!" she clarified when noticing that her friend didn't really appreciate her choice of words. "The world needs nerds like us. _We_ are the one's who's got the knowledge and tools to create a better future."

"Yeah, that's right", Reginald agreed and felt a little more at ease.

So… she's _into_ nerds. Talk about luck! Or, well, it _would_ have been if it hadn't been that she was going to be wrongfully convicted in a few days…

No…! He couldn't let that happen! He may have done a lot of mistakes in the recent weeks, trusting Lucas had been the worst, but he's not stupid enough to not realize when the limit was crossed. But what could he do? If he revolted against Lucas it would only end bad for himself. He needed to think of something. Something that prevented Lucas from getting to her.

"Say, Rhoda, you don't happen to have had any plans on traveling somewhere soon? I've heard that the titan arum in the Bergian Garden in Stockholm is scheduled to blossom soon. Last blooming was seven years ago!"

 _Perfect! Send her away to a place that has a flower with the smell of a corpse!_

Well, better that than letting her become one!

"Yeah, I heard about that! Man, that would have been really fascinating to experience", she said interested. "Too bad I don't have time. I have to wait until the flower we've got here in St. Canard blooms."

"But… n-no one knows when that's going to happen! That individual is totally unpredictable!"

Please, just _leave!_ I'm trying to save your life here, Reginald thought desperate.

"Maybe, but I've _also_ got school work to think of. Just like you", she said.

"But… t-this is a rare moment!" Reginald persisted desperate. "You should go! You only live once! And you never know when it might end!"

"Well, hello guys!"

The ominously familiar voice behind them made Reginald stiffen up in fright. It couldn't be!

"Lucas? Well, hi!" Rhoda greeted, happily surprised. "What are you doing here at the university?"

Yeah, that's exactly what Reginald wondered too.

"Oh, I had an errand with an old friend of mine who works here, and then I thought I heard the two of you so I thought I should go and say hi", he said friendly.

Reginald's face got all pale as he stared at the white-and-gray Birman cat like he was looking at a monster. Which wasn't really that inaccurately.

What did he want? What was he doing here? How much of what he'd just said had he heard?

"So, how are you guys?" Lucas asked curious.

"Oh, just fine, thanks!" Rhoda said. "We're just here doing school work."

"Yes! Exactly! Nothing exciting!" Reginald said, in a quite unsuccessful attempt to try and act naturally. He was pretty sure that Lucas was looking straight through him. And if he wasn't, then he sure was going to do in any minute now 'cause Reginald felt he was about to panic. "Aaaand speaking of that, I think I better go to the library and check if the book I've reserved finally has come in before it closes. O-Or else I'm just going to forget doing it later again." Reginald stood up from the chair, a little too hastily. "Be right back!"

With that said, the drake rushed towards the room's exit like his life was as stake. He stopped in the corridor right outside, next to the door-less entrance so that no one inside could see him. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down his hard pounding heart and ran his hand through his hair.

Why here? Why now? _Why at all?!_ Lucas didn't even belong at the university! There was no reason for him to be there! Reginald did not believe for a second about that he had come because of an errand with an old friend. No, he _definitely_ had something in mind. But what? Spying on Reginald? Make sure that his bestie wasn't going to do anything that could sabotage their plan? Or ensure that people really would think that Rhoda was guilty by planting out _more_ false evidence? Maybe he shouldn't have left her alone with him.

Carefully, he peered over the door end. They were about 15 feet away, with their backs in his direction.

What was his plan?

"Is he always like that?" Lucas asked Rhoda about Reginald.

"Yeah, mostly", she said and shrugged, "though I do think he's been acting a bit extra antsy ever since we were at Ajax. I think the incident may have been a little too much for him."

She has noticed that?! Well, that's just perfect! She must think he's a real oversensitive coward! Whiiiich maybe was not a complete lie, but in his defense, he at least had a good reason for it.

"Well, it was pretty hard for all of us. Except for Femme possibly", Lucas said. "About that, I heard from Castor that the two of you also had been interrogated by Agent Hooter."

Uh-oh, this does not bode well, Reginald thought.

"Yeah, turns out you were right about that he was going to investigate the members of the organization about Ajax's missing president", Rhoda said. "I didn't tell him anything by the way."

"Yeah, I feel bad about having to let you lie to the agency, especially in a serious case like this", Lucas said shameful.

Dat _snake!_

"It's okay. We all knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into", Rhoda assured.

"Yeah, if wasn't that we've got members who'd get in real trouble, I would have considered telling S.H.U.S.H. the truth", the Birman said. "Femme's risking going back in jail and if I've understood correctly your boyfriend's living on a scholarship."

Her WHAT?!

"My _boyfrie...?_ Oh! Nononono, Reggie and I are just friends!" Rhoda clarified and hastily waved her hands.

Yes, Lucas was well aware of that, even though Reginald wished for more. What the hay was he doing?! What exactly did he want out of all this?

"OH! Okay! Man, I'm so sorry!" Lucas hastily apologized embarrassed. "Well… this was awkward…"

He was going to _tell_ her?! Oh no!

Reginald was just about to rush back in and prevent Lucas from saying anything more that could embarrass him, but luckily he was hindered by his common sense. No, it was better to wait a little longer, at least until he was sure that it really was necessary. He still needed to know what he was up to.

"Oh, it's okay", Rhoda assured.

"Yeah, heh, well, I was just assuming since you're both the two smartest students at the university and you seem to get along very well and… You know, now when I'm hearing it out loud I realize how stupid that actually sounds…", Lucas said, pretending to be abashed. "Just because you get along well with someone and have a lot in common doesn't mean you have to be romantically involved."

"No, exactly! _Thank you!_ " Rhoda firmly agreed.

"So… there's absolutely nothing going on between the two of you then? Not even a little?" Lucas asked slyly.

Hey, hey! You can't just ask her something like tha-aaat…! Uh, wait! Nevermind! I actually do wanna hear this, Reginald thought and curiously peered out over the edge a few more inches.

"No, there's absolutely nothing", Rhoda clarified, slightly annoyed. "And I'm happy for that. I already get enough of that annoying stuff from Castor, and he's _worse_. I don't need from Reggie too."

The drake felt it like his whole world collapsed and turned black. It was true then. Lucas had been right all along.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm actually not interested in anyone at all for the moment", Rhoda continued. "It has always been so much pressure on girls that they have to get married and start a family, but that has never really been my thing. I've always rather wanted to do carrier, fulfill my dreams, do what _I_ want to do. Feel like I've lived my life. If I one day ever would _choose_ to get married, then I want it to be with someone I really feel right with. And because _I_ want it, not because of what somebody _else_ thinks. In that case, I don't only think I ever would be able to stay true to myself, but neither to my partner."

Lucas just looked at her in amazement.

"You know what? _T_ _hat_ was probably among the wisest and most insightful things I've _ever_ heard anyone say", he said admired and put a hand on her shoulder. "I believe indubitably that if someone's ever going to be able to win your heart, he's going to be the luckiest guy in the world."

The feline suddenly lifted and turned his head slowly towards the exit, consciously staring right into Reginald's eyes, with an evil smirk on his face. The two deep blue eyes sent off icy spears towards the drake, who felt the cold running through him. Horrified, the mallard quickly pulled away from the opening and pushed his back up against the wall, so hastily that he hit the hard concrete with the back of his head.

"Ouch!" he cried quiet and placed his hand on his achy head, though the throbbing pain was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

Now he understood why he had come here. He had known. He had known all along! Lucas _knew_ that Reginald was going to hesitate. Therefore, he had made it clear to him that he certainly wasn't the person you can toy with that easy. And to really put the duck in his place, he had also hit where he knew where it would hurt the most for him. Reginald didn't know what hurt the most, to hear that the cat had been right about Rhoda all along, or that Lucas, his so-called best friend, had done all this just to break him down and mark his words. Whatever the cat had been after, it sure did work.

A terrible truth suddenly came up for the duck. Lucas was never going leave him alone. The young mallard would have to agree on whatever the cat said, whether he wanted it or not. And if he ever would try to resist, Lucas would not hesitate on making his life miserable. That is, if he even would let him live. He was forever trapped at his mercy. Trapped like a bug in a carnivorous pitcher plant, whose corroding acid slowly was eating away his body and soul. In the end, there would be nothing left of the person that people once had known as Reginald Bushroot. He was going to forever serve as Lucas's zombiefied slave. And he would never be free.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Here's some interesting trivia (a.k.a. nerd talk): The brown algae were considered plants up to 1981 where they were reclassified to a brand new kingdom called Chromalveolata (yeaaah, I can't really pronounce it either…). And the blue-green algae, today more known as cyanobacteria, weren't recognized as bacteria/monera until 1974, even though controversies about them had been going for a very long time.**_

 _ **It really benefits being a science nerd yourself when your main character is supposed to be the top student of the university.**_


	10. Poison Ivy League

**10\. Poison Ivy League**

"We live in a society today where people's equal value is questioned. People with the exact same work at the exact same workplace get paid unequally. When a politician becomes violently threatened, people go crazy. When the same thing happens to a homeless, suddenly there's not even a squeak. What does that really say? That you can put a price on every individual? And that that value varies depending on who you are and what background you have? People are so busy seeing each other's differences they do not realize that we all also have things in common. We are all people. We all have a voice…!"

Lucas sure is a good actor, Reginald thought cynical as he stood in the big crowd of people listening to the cat's speech in the park at a rostrum of wood in front of a large pear tree. If Lucas had chosen to go to showbiz, the mallard was sure he would have won an Oscar.

He glanced at the people around him. Everyone stood as spellbound, regardfully sucking in every word the cat preached, completely unaware of that O.P.A.L.'s great leader didn't even live after or believed in his own words.

"…There will always be differences between individuals. It _is_ after all that what makes us all unique. But the most important thing is to be able to respect each other and try to show understanding. Though, we also need to have an open heart ourselves and be open for changes in our own behaviors and values. If _we_ can show a good example, there is a greater chance that others also will…"

No, that's it, I'm leaving, the duck decided as he felt his stomach turning more and more. He excused himself past the spectators behind him and walked out of the park.

* * *

Since he didn't have anything more planned for the rest of the day, Reginald decided to save the money on the bus and instead walk the long way home, taking the trail through the woods. Fallen dead leaves rustled beneath his orange flat webbed feet as he walked down the almost unnoticeable leaf-covered path. Autumn had already started painting the green forest yellow, with a little stain of red. Reginald admired fascinated a red squirrel for a short while before the witty little rodent disappeared behind a thick branch belonging to a great oak tree.

Being in his natural environment always made him at a better mood. To get to breathe and feel the fresh, slightly chilly, breeze against the face was like getting cleansed both on the inside and the outside. It almost made him forget all his worries. Only almost though.

A bit panting he trailed up the steep hill. He used the trunks of the trees growing on the slope to easier pull himself upwards. The ground beneath his feet got harder and rockier the higher up he got. The crowns of the trees slowly pulled away for the open overcast sky where the sun was hidden behind a large cumulonimbus cloud, which kind of looked like a large white fluffy mountain.

He felt the ground leveling out as he reached the top and took a look out over the beautiful view. The green-yellow-red woods continued on for a few more yards before being replaced by meadows and fields. Far away, a little to the left where he was heading towards, he saw the large university building with its black roof and white squared facade-contour surrounding the courtyard. A flock of tiny birds was sitting on a couple of telephone cables that cut through the country, being held up by wooden poles.

He turned around and took a look at the city behind him with its high skyscrapers at downtown to the right, and Audubon Bay Bridge, whose pylons was sticking up to the left with the suspension cables hanging between them, connecting the city center with the suburbs on the other side of the river.

To think, that something so small and insignificant can release so much exhaust fumes and toxins, Reginald found himself thinking for some reason.

The duck went over and rested on a big gray boulder, looking out over the area to the left of the city which mostly consisted of forest and fields with farms. A large red windmill stood far away in the horizon near one of the farms, cutting the otherwise smooth line that separated the earth from the sky. While letting his legs dangle with the calves against the cold stone surface, Reginald admired the windmill's rectangular checkered net-like wings, rotating so slow that you had to stare at them for a while to notice them move at all.

He had always hoped that he one day could bring Rhoda to this place. It hurt in his heart realizing that he actually never was going to do that.

"I never wanted any of this", he quietly mumbled dismal for himself. "All I wanted was to make the world a better place to live, help out, do good."

And look where it had brought him. A man is dead, S.H.U.S.H. was after him, his big idol turned out to be an evil madman and the love of his life was going to be innocently arrested any day soon. No, this was _definitely_ not what he had wanted.

A twinge of guilt struck him when he suddenly came to think of Roland. Out of all the people involved in this awful mess, he sure had been the one who had had to pay the ultimate price.

Reginald glanced sad up at the sky.

"I'm so sorry", he said repentant. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

He lowered his eyes to the grass waving in the wind a few inches below his dangling feet and sighed heavily.

"Ugh! I should _never_ have volunteered for that _stupid_ operation! If I hadn't been at Ajax, _none_ of this would ever have happened! Why did I have to be such an IDIOT?!"

Outraged he kicked a long timothy straw that grew in front of the rock.

"I could simply just _never_ have gone with them that night and just stayed home, but _nooo_ , _I_ was going to be a _heeero!_ " he said sarcastic to himself. Then he sighed melancholically. "Instead, I became a villain…"

A flock of Canada geese, honking unrhythmical, flew in V-formation and darkened a bit of the sky, on their way to south.

"Somehow… I have to find a way to fix this. I am _not_ going to let that rotten cat take her away! If somebody deserves to go down it's _him_. Ah, but I can't tell on him either. That would just ruin everything for the Opals. Besides… who would even believe me…?"

Reginald had really lost all his trust in Lucas. That cat was worse than poison ivy. Honestly, that feline scared him more than anything else. The duck had begun to sometimes find himself worrying taking a look over his shoulder regularly, even at times like these when he knew the Birman was going to be busy the whole weekend. He always imagined that the cat would be standing there behind him, staring at him with those blue eyes. To him, Lucas wasn't really a person anymore, but more like an evil ghost, constantly watching him wherever he goes.

His greatest wish right now was that he just could cut him out of his life. Living with Lucas was like a prison in itself. Unfortunately, he knew he was never going to be able to do that. Whatever happened, Lucas would always have Sullivan's death on him, and there was nothing he could do to get out of that. Unless…

The sun finally peered out over the edge of the cumulonimbus cloud as the big white fluff floated aside and the whole hill bathed in a bright light. Cogitating, Reginald slowly stood up from the stone as the insight hit him.

He considered it all carefully. Maybe that was the solution? After all, it would be the only morally right thing to do. There was no way Lucas would be able to get to him. And Rhoda, and all the others, would be safe. But best of all, he might finally be able to get some peace in himself.

"I turn myself in…!"

* * *

It was probably the best option anyway, the duck thought as he approached the university building on his way home. Just thinking about it actually made him feel better already. Lucas couldn't threaten him if he _deliberately_ turned himself over to the police.

"I just say that I operated on my own", he said for himself. "That way, none of the others will get harmed."

He _could_ actually have managed to carry out the whole operation all by himself. Lucas _had_ after all taught him, among other things, how to pick locks and how to avoid security systems. If anyone would ask him exactly how he had done it, he knew exactly what to answer in detail. And since he _also_ happened to know exactly where the Mordarvaxtocid had been preserved there was _no way_ anyone would doubt him.

"I explain that I met the president by a pure coincident and what happened after that was just an accident. After all, that _is_ true. If I manage to explain it all properly to the jury I might have a chance that I can make them see it all from my point of view, and then they might give me a milder punishment!" Tired, he rubbed his eye with one index finger while he worn out walked under one of the building's white arches into the schoolyard. "And then I finally might be able to get a good night sleep as well", he muttered yawning.

He stopped inside the courtyard next to a bed of bourbon-rosebushes, which were planted along the wall, and looked up to the right towards the inner side of the university building, where the main entrance was.

One thing was for sure, he was definitely going to lose his scholarship. If not for Sullivan's death, then at least for the break-in at Ajax Chemicals. And there was no way he would be able to afford continuing study.

"I could try to take a loan, or perhaps get a job and then, after a while, keep studying part-time alongside", he thought aloud. "I could also try to sell some of my crops! That's not a bad idea, right? There's probably a lot of people who'd like to buy locally grown ecologic products."

"Um… excuse me, but _who_ in the world are you talking to?"

Reginald jerked when he suddenly heard the familiar nasal voice behind him and quickly turned around. There, a few feet away, he saw two tall pelican-like ducks, both with thick round glasses.

Oh no, not _them_ , he thought and felt every sip of the small amount of confidence he had run down him and cowardly scurry away like tiny lemmings.

"Uh… well… no one", Reginald admitted embarrassed.

"You mean you don't have any friends so you talk to yourself instead? Heh! Well, I guess _that's_ not a big surprise", one of them said mean.

"No, Gary, I bet he was talking to those bushes over there", the other one said and pointed at the rose bushes next to the much smaller waterfowl.

"What? No, I didn't…", Reginald told, but then began to wonder if it hadn't just been better to let them believe that.

"Oh! Yeah! You're probably right, Larson!" the duck named Gary said, not taking any notice of Reginald's words. "After all, Reggie _does_ believe plants have _feeeelings_."

The two big birds joined in together in a big laughter, which contained a lot of sudden inputs of short grunting sounds.

He really didn't feel like dealing with this right now, he just wanted to get home. He was already lying on the ground, he didn't need someone kicking him.

Tired and weary, he started walking across the courtyard towards the archway on the other side.

"By the way, did you like our little present we gave you?" Larson asked him.

Reginald assumed they were referring to the poison ivy-leaves he had found in his bag during lab practice the other day. The rash on his hands was still itching.

"Please, why can't you just leave me alone?" he asked weary. "I have enough problems already."

"Ooo, you heard that, Larson? Perfect little Reggie s'got _proooblem_ ", Gary said teasing.

"He probably forgot to water his plants this morning", Larson said sarcastic and they both laughed again.

"Y-You know nothing about me!" Reginald stuttered upset in a weak attempt to try to defend himself. "Y-You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?" Gary asked incredulously.

"Um…"

He had at first been tempted to tell them about the fact that he actually had killed a man, in the hope that that might scare them off. After all, everyone was going to get to know anytime soon. However, when thinking about it, he was sure they probably wouldn't even believe him and instead just laugh it all off. It didn't matter what he said or did, he was never going to win this fight, no matter how much he tried to fight back.

"… well, um… nothing…", he said discouraged.

"Heh! Yeah I thought so", Gary said mean. "Just because _you_ happen to have had the best results on all the tests so far and are the teachers' pet doesn't mean _you_ are going to be the one most successful around here."

The two ducks slowly started to walk up against him.

Oh no, now what are they going to do, Reginald wondered worried and anxiously took a few steps back as he watched the two humongous birds closing in on him.

"Well, see you around! _Dork!_ " Gary spat at him and elbowed the shorter waterfowl's shoulder, so hard that Reginald almost lost his balance, before the two bullies walked away.

Hurt yet relieved it was over, Reginald rubbed his shoulder a little and continued his way towards the exit.

At least I got away easy this time, he thought.

"Oh, by the way! Think fast!" Larson suddenly shouted at him. Reginald lifted his head back in their direction and watched for a brief second how something dark and brown suddenly took up his entire field of view more and more before the disgusting ball of sludge hit him right in the face.

With his eyelids closed, he heard the two bullies tune into another grunting laughter, which slowly faded out as the two bad birds kept walking.

I spoke too soon, Reginald gloomily thought for himself and rubbed his face with his hands to remove the worst of the mud so that he at least dared to open his eyes.

Sighing, he made his way towards the purling fountain that stood in the centre of the courtyard. He cupped his hands in the cold somewhat clean water and washed the mud off his face. Luckily, the substance was water based and not hydrophobic like he had gotten the last time.

Well, I _sure_ won't be missing _them_ when I get convicted at least, he thought bitterly as he combed through his bangs with his fingers to remove the bit of the mud that had gotten stuck in his hair. He hated them. If it hadn't just been because of _those two_ his life at the university would have been _completely_ _perfect_. It's unbelievable how much just _a few_ insignificant persons can do to absolutely destroy _everything!_ Oh, how he wished he could just… get _rid_ of them!

It wouldn't actually be that hard to take care of really, he found himself thinking. Just put a little powdered monkshood in their food and they would both be pushing up daisies within just a few minutes. Though, putting out _both_ of them at the same time would of course look suspicious. He had to take them on one and one. And he had to make sure to used the correct dose or else…

"Why am I even _considering_ this?!" he suddenly asked himself, horrified by his own thoughts. "I am not that kind of person!"

Or was he?

Reginald shook his wet hands and sprawled his fingers above the water surface to get them dry. He wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Depressed and confused, he buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on the concrete gray fountain edge.

"What is happening to me?" he muttered woeful.

He suddenly heard footsteps walking in his direction and stop just behind him.

Oh no, not _again!_

"Great! _Now_ what do you want?!" he snapped annoyed and turned around, expecting to see the two ducks standing behind him again. To his surprise though, his eyes instead fell on a quite flummoxed Bud, carrying a brown paper bag in his hand.

"Um… Is this a bad time?" he asked a bit unsure.

"Huh? Oh, no, sorry! I thought it was someone else. Well… anyway, what do _you_ want then?" Reginald asked a bit snappish when realizing Bud wasn't exactly his favorite person either. Really, what _was_ all this?! Did _all_ his tormentors had to torture him today?! Was it some kind of "Torture the Bushroot-day" today or something?!

"Oh well, I just figured that maybe I should apologize if I was acting a bit mean earlier. I think we may have started off at the wrong foot", Bud said. "Hey, let's give it another try, shall we? I'm Bud Flud and I'm studying financing and marketing. And you are… You know, I don't think I ever got your name."

"Oh… Well, my name is Reginald Bushroot, but people usually call me Reggie", he told and couldn't help but to still be on his guard.

"Aha, okay! So, Reggie, what do you say? How about put all the old stuff behind us and start over, ey?" Bud asked carefree. "I bought some donuts by the way. They are eco…lociaaaal… or something. I figured you'd like that."

He held up and tempting shook the rustling bag in front of the drake.

Reginald pondered for a few seconds. Bud had no idea how much there was in his life that he wished he could just put behind him but couldn't.

"Well… okay", the duck finally agreed on a bit sulkily. "But I get to pick _first!_ "

"Sure!"

He picked up one of the donuts from the bag and took seat at the fountain edge to eat.

This might not matter very much really, but to be honest, he didn't bother caring anymore. He could at least as well take the opportunity to enjoy the last time he had before his whole life was going to get smashed into pieces. That wasn't too much to ask for, right?

Bud picked up the other donut and took seat next to the duck.

"So, Reggie, what's up for today?" Bud asked him curious and took a bite.

"Well, nothing really", he said and shrugged, "I was just on my way home."

"Okay… By the way, I met two fat nerds on the way here. Any friends of yours?" he asked between bites.

He was probably talking about Gary and Larson.

"Not exactly", Reginald told.

"Oh, phew! What a relief! I've never really liked any of those guys", Bud revealed.

"Well, what do you know? We've actually got something in _common_. Heh, what are the odds?" Reginald said pretty complacent and took another bite.

"I heard you're a scholarship holder", Bud suddenly mentioned.

"Eh… well, yes I am…", Reginald said. At least for a few more hours.

"I recon you must be pretty smart then", Bud assumed. "You who are studying science and such."

"Well, I guess it depends on how you're looking at it", Reginald said and shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Bud asked confused.

"Well, it might be hard for you to imagine, but I've actually done some very stupid things in my life too", the drake revealed and took yet another bite.

"Oh! Really?!" Bud said and raised his eyebrows in interest. "Well, if you'd ask me I just think that's a good thing."

"How can it be that?" Reginald wondered. Now _he_ was the one being confused.

"Because, if there is one thing I can't stand, it's people who _always_ have to be so disgustingly perfect and completely good all the way through. Those kind of people are just so _boring_ and one-tracked. They always have to take everything so serious and _always_ have to know best. I just hate that. Exactly who really decides what's right and wrong?"

Reginald looked marveling at him. For some reason, the canine's words made him feel more… accepted in some way.

"Thank you…", he said grateful. "You know, that actually made me feel much better about myself."

"Well, it wasn't really my intention, but sure! You're welcome!" Bud said nonchalant and shrugged before keeping on eating.

"Well, I really should get going now, I've stayed for far too long", the mallard friendly excused himself after having chewed up the last bit of the donut and hopped down from the fountain edge. "Thanks for the donut… and the actually surprisingly nice company."

"You're welcome!" Bud said. "You're heading home by the way?"

"Yes, you see, I own a couple of plants of rare species that needs regular care-taking", the drake explained friendly.

"Alright, then I'll join you home", Bud decided easy-going and got down the edge too.

"Uh… Okay… Sure!" Reginald said, surprised by the dog's sudden self-invitation. "Why not?"


	11. Live and Let Die

**11\. Live and Let Die**

Fate sure has a strange sense of humor, Reginald thought. Just a few weeks ago, he had never had a friend over at his house before. Now, he has had two. Two with completely different personalities, and with absolutely no connection to each other.

Bud whistled impressed when he stepped over the threshold into the duck's enormous greenhouse.

"Not bad! Well, it's not like _my_ place, but still", the canine said while looking around a little. "And I'm really more of a city person."

"For some reason that doesn't surprise me", Reginald said and couldn't help but to giggle a little behind his back. The dog sure looked out of place in his fine suit and perfect placed hair among the mallard's green plants.

"Well, I must admit, it is much bigger than I imagined", Bud admitted. "You sure must have put a lot of work into all of this."

"Well, I have", Reginald told and nodded affirmative.

"I guess you must have invested a lot of money and time to make it all like this", Bud surmised.

"Yeah… I actually have…"

A certain insight suddenly struck the duck. Regardfully he looked out over his beautiful creations. Who was going to take care of them when he got arrested? They were all going to die. There were some individuals there that the drake had taken care of for many years, some even since childhood. He also had imported some rare endangered species that not even St. Canard's botanic garden had introduced. His plants were more than just an amazing decoration to his home. They were like his family. When he turned himself in, he was not only going to lose his scholarship and his future. He was going lose _everything_ …

"Well, since you obviously seem to have a flair for this with plants, I guess you probably also know a lot about berries and fruits and such?" Bud suddenly said assuming.

"Huh? Uh… yeah, I guess", Reginald answered a bit modest. "I do grow a lot of my own food yes."

"Then you're probably pretty good when it comes to different kinds of flavorings as well?"

"Um… maybe. I am studying biology with secondary courses in chemistry, so I guess I've at least got _some_ knowledge when it comes to the chemical area… Why are you asking?"

"Well, you see, Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water is planning on introducing new flavors to their products", the dog began explaining, "and I come to think of that most flavorings usually are different kinds of berries and fruits, like lemons and such, which comes from plants."

You don't say, Reginald though sarcastic.

"So, I was wondering if you could give me a few tips on what types of fruit and such would work well? Ideally, both in terms of demand and the cost of production? I'd really like to show the old man that his son isn't completely useless."

"Oh, well, sure!" Reginald agreed on and shrugged a little. "I actually do help providing the Opals with ecological products to various drinks for special arrangements."

"Yeah, I heard that. Hehe!" Bud said and smirked a little.

"So, I _guess_ I might know a little when it comes to… Hey! Wait a second here!" It all suddenly fell into place for the white duck. "Oh, _now_ I get it! _That's_ the reason you sought me up, wasn't it? You need my _heeelp!_ "

"Well yes, so what?" the dog said and nonchalantly shrugged.

"I should have _known_ there was some kind of ulterior motive in all this!" Reginald said a bit ruffled. "Vain people like you are never nice to anyone unless you think you can get something out of it."

"Hey, you should actually feel _honored_ if you'd ask me", Bud, who seemed rather amused than offended, said. He actually found it quite fun to make the, seemingly, gullible hippie duck upset. "I could have just asked any science geek or farmer at all, but I chose _you_ because I think you seem like a kind of okay person. And because I heard you were good at your thing."

"Oh, is this the part when I'm supposed to feel special or something?" Reginald wondered sarcastic. "'Cause, really, anything you say doesn't have that much value to me."

"You can think whatever you want, I don't care. Are you going to help me or not? I can owe you a favor in return. Anything you want, in reasonable agreements of course", the canine suggested.

Reginald thought for a while. It was actually not a bad idea. Given how his life looked like for the moment it wouldn't actually be bad to have a lifeline like Bud somewhere. Bud might know a good lawyer, or someone who could take care of his greenhouse, or maybe he could help him get a job so he could afford going back to school later…?

Considering, he blew away a few strands of hair that was hanging down in front of his eyes.

"Alright, I do it", he finally agreed on at last. It's not like he had anything to lose anyway. "I'll help you impress your buddy, Dad… Er… I mean your daddy, Buddy… I MEAN YOUR DADDY, _BUD!_ "

"Hahaha! Okay, great!" Bud laughed amused. "So, what do you want in return? Money? Discounts? Dating tips maybe?"

"Uh… Is it okay if I decide later?" he asked.

"Sure! No problem!" the dog assured. "Here's my card, just call me when you've made your mind up."

The brown mammal fished out a small blue card with wave motive on from his pocket and handed it to the bird.

"Well, Reggie, are you ready to tell me all of your secrets now?"

Well, definitely not _all_ of them, that's for sure!

"Uh… jeez, where do I begin?" he said and started racking his brain. "Um, you mentioned lemon earlier. That is probably the most common to use and very easy to handle. Lime actually works just as well, since it consists of almost the same compounds, but is a little more aromatic. It has actually gotten more requested recently."

"Aha", Bud said, all ears.

"A quite surprising flavor that's gotten pretty popular on the market is raspberry. Personally, I just think it's okay. Pear is probably my favorite. Watermelon is also good, but that one requires a quite high concentrate if you want to feel any taste at all. I also like kiwi, but that is really _hard_ to grow ecological…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait! Hold that thought! I have to write all this _down!_ " Bud hastily asked him to and started fumbling after a pen and a notepad in his pockets. "Man, this is _gold!_ "

It felt pretty good having someone who showed faith in his skills and, for once, actually valued his opinions. Especially when it was someone so arrogant and pompous as Bud Flud. Bud might not be very much of 'best friend material', and Reginald was pretty sure that the dog never would take a bullet for him or anything, but maybe they at least could come to accept each other. Reginald was at least happy with the fact that Bud wasn't calling him 'the flower-dude' anymore.

"Well, _this_ is what _I_ would call a recipe for success, haha!" Bud joked contentedly while scribbling down the last part. "Hey, Reggie, it's not often I say this to people, but… you should have a big thank you. With this, I am going to lead my company to the top!"

The brown dog lightly waved the small notepad in front of the duck.

"Don't you mean your _father's_ company?" Reginald asked wondering.

"Oh… Right… Pardon me, let me rephrase that: _After_ I've managed to convince the workers at the corporation that it's time to let the old geyser to retire, I am going to lead the company to the top, hehe!" he corrected himself, and laughed a bit mischievous.

Reginald frowned puzzled at him.

"Wait…! You're going to _fire_ your own _dad?!_ " he asked dismayed.

"Hey, I'm not even an _employee_ of the company", he pointed out and pretended to act innocent. "I have no power there."

"Maybe not, but you're going to persuade the _other_ workers to gather at him so _you_ can step in and take over, aren't you?" the drake asked assuming and glared disliking at him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, it's none of _my_ business about what the other workers of the company think", Bud said, still acting innocent. "But if it so _happens_ that they consider me a better choice then who would I be to turn them down, hehe!"

Reginald could not help but baffled and disgusted just stare at the dog. "Do you really have no shame?!"

"Hm… let me think… Nah, not really", the canine said and shrugged nonchalantly.

Reginald was really speechless. How was it even possible for a person to not feel any guilt at all?!

Why can't _I_ do that, he thought.

"Hey, let's make a deal, shall we?" Bud suggested suddenly. "You keep your bill out of my business, and in return I promise to stay away frooom… whatever fishy business _you_ might be up to in this greenhouse of yours…"

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Reginald asked confused.

The canine slyly grinned at him.

"Heh! Yeaah… 'cause living in a greenhouse doesn't seem weird at all, _nooo…_ ", Bud said ironic. "Nope! Not suspicious at all!"

"What?" Reginald asked again confused, not getting it at all. "What the _hay_ are you talking abouuuut…?"

The penny suddenly dropped for him what he was referring to. "Ohhh! But for the love of sequoia, you gotta be _kidding_ me! Do you have any idea of how many who've asked me about that?!" Reginald said indignant. "Does I have 'idiot' written on my forehead?! Do you _really_ think I would be that stupid to risk my scholarship just like that? The last thing I need is having the cops snooping aroouuu… You know, you're right! We shouldn't interfere in things that don't concern us. I like that proposal!"

Reginald realized that if he just let Bud believe in that he was involved in some _other_ shady activity it might be enough to satisfy the dog's curiosity from searching even _deeper_ into the closet and risk having him finding the _real_ skeletons.

"Heh! I thought you would. So, we have a deal then?" the dog checked, sinister grinning, and stretched out one paw towards him.

"Absolutely!" Reginald said content and confidently shook the brown paw.

"Good", the dog said and smirked.

Bud may believe that he was the one who got the most out of the deal, unbeknownst that it actually was the person shaking his paw who was the _real_ winner of this game. The dog sure had no idea that he was barking up the wrong tree.

"You know, Reggie? You're kind of a cool dude, for a hippie that is", the dog admitted. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

"Well, it's a win-win situation, I can't complain", the duck said and casually shrugged.

"Yeah, well, I think I better leave now, I've got a few things to do, hehe!" Bud declared satisfied and put back the pen and the pad in his pocket. "See ya!"

Then he began walking towards the exit.

Reginald hesitated for a second. "May I just ask you something?"

The dog stopped right before he even managed to grab the handle to the front door and turned back to the drake. "Sure! Go ahead!"

"How do you do it? I mean, you're probably the most self-absorbed and shameless person I've ever met."

"Um… thank you…?" Bud uttered confused a bit insulted, and frowned puzzled at him.

"Oh no, I meant that as a _compliment!_ Though… yeeeah, I guess it didn't really sound like it… Anyway, believe it or not, but… sometimes there are moments when I wish I could be more like that. Because, you see… I always _dwell_ on all my problems. I… I'm _plagued_ by anxiety and guilt _twenty-four seven!_ My conscience is standing so high up on my neck that I think I'm going _crazy!_ "

Reginald gestured wildly with his hands and frantically pulled in his hair in despair. "I know I can't undo my past. I _know_ that, I'm not an idiot! And really, there's nothing more I want than to just let it all _go!_ But I can't. I _just CAN'T!_ " he kept on grieving. "It's like something's holding a such firm grip around me that it feels like I'm going to suffocate, and it doesn't matter how much I struggle, I can't get loose…"

The devastated, almost teary-eyed, waterfowl clenched his hands together in front of him, like he was smashing something, so hard that the nails painfully almost cut through the skin. The pain was still negligible compared to the pain in his soul.

"I can't live like this anymore… I can't take it _feeling_ like this _all the time_ _!_ " he confessed dejected. "I just want peace so I can live my life without _constantly_ feeling so depressed! Is that too much to ask? What do I _do_ to stop _feeling_ anything? What do _you_ do?"

"Uh…", Bud said, quite unsure of how he was going to handle the duck's sudden personal confessions.

The dog pondered for a while.

"Well… heh! You see… I simply just don't care. That's all", he finally told and shrugged.

"What do you mean _'that's all'?!_ How can you _not_ care?!" Reginald asked bewildered.

"Well, I guess as long as things works out just fine for _me_ , then anything else doesn't really matter."

"Isn't that a little too selfish to think?" Reginald questioned.

"Hey! Who says it's wrong to think about yourself? Because, really, after all, who else would? You can't just _expect_ that someone else _voluntarily_ is going to do things _for_ you. Heh! There actually was a pretty wise man who once reminded me that: 'the only person that really truly cares about me is me'", Bud quoted and smiled at the duck.

That sounded familiar, Reginald thought. Where had he heard that?

"We _are_ after all the main characters in our own lives. So why shouldn't we be allowed to choose what we believe is the best for ourselves?" the dog continued. "We deserve happiness as much as anybody. What's the point of living when you can't enjoy it? If you want something, just _get_ it!"

"But what if I _can't_ 'just _get_ 'what I want?" Reginald persisted blue.

"Hey, if there's _one_ thing that that moon-landing thought me, it's that _nothing_ is _completely_ impossible. There's _always_ a way. All you need is to be open for the possibilities, and to be _specific_ of exactly _what_ it is you want. To me, the true question isn't: 'What do you have to do?', but rather: 'How _far_ are you willing to go?'", Bud said. "Sometimes you might have to use unorthodox methods, and you might have to let others go down for the count. But if it is for something you _really_ want, it's totally going to be worth it."

Reginald thought through his words properly for a while. He was right, there actually _was_ one more option he could choose that _didn't_ mean he had to turn himself over to the police. It would _actually_ also at the same time solve _all of_ his major problems! He would keep his scholarship, Rhoda would be safe, the Opals would remain blissfully unaware. But best of all, he would _finally_ be able to get free from Lucas!

Quiet a bit mumbling to himself, he unaware started wandering around in the greenhouse while thinking back and forth on which possible consequences that might could be played out in the process, and what they would entail. There really were _no_ obstacles at all in his way, he realized after thoroughly considerations. He could actually _do_ it! And no one would ever know! He could go free!

But was he really ready to do it? He may have the knowledge. He may have the tools. But did he really have the heart? Or rather… the lack of one…?

"Um, no I think I've been staying for far too long already…", Bud, who noticed that the duck was drifting away in his thought, excused himself.

"Oh, right!" Reginald exclaimed, suddenly getting back to reality, and rushed over to open up the door to let his guest out. "Well, thanks for visiting! And, well… for everything in general really…"

"Heh! It's rather _I_ who am supposed to thank _you_ ", the dog said, waving contentedly the thin notepad in front of the duck's face, so close that it touched his beak, before he stepped over the threshold. "Well, see you later!"

"We sure will!" Reginald said and grinned a little mysteriously behind his back. "Bye!"

Reginald closed the door. He had made up his mind now. He wasn't going to turn himself in. Why would he? Like Lucas said, he's innocent. Sullivan's death _had_ after all just been an accident, so why should he have to pay for it? Besides, he had too much to live for.

Slowly, he followed the indoor path leading around inside the greenhouse while he heedfully admired his beautiful lush friends as he passed them by, gently stroking the nearest leaves of the plants that grew closest by the edge of the path.

It was true, however, that one person would have to go down. But it wasn't going to be him.

He walked up to one of the flowerbeds where a couple of plants with clusters of small purple-blue flowers grew. The upper petal of each flower was slightly larger than the rest and was shaped a little like a helmet or a hood that made them droop forward a little.

"Now, _this_ is what _I_ call _flower power!_ Hehehe…!" he said and laughed malicious.


	12. Aconitum

**12\. Aconitum**

"Where have you been?" Lucas asked suspicious with his arms crossed when Reginald walked up the little staircase leading into the leader's mobile home. "I saw you left early."

"Oh, I was with Bud Flud", Reginald told honest.

"Um… Who?" the cat asked confounded.

"Bud Flud. He is the son of the head of Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water, a bottle water company", he explained.

"Um… Okay… So, what did he want?" Lucas asked, utterly puzzled.

"Oh, he just wanted some advice. You see, is father's company is planning on announcing some new flavors on their water, and Bud had heard about that I sometimes donate supply crops from my greenhouse when we make drinks to our meetings. So, he offered me a favor in return for my advices so he would look good in front of his dad and those other big-shots. You know the old story: Son of the rich ask the smart guy for help to make papa proud", Reginald said untroubled. He had realized that it wouldn't have been much of a point to lie to the cat. The risk was that he rather just would have just seen him through and gotten more suspicious.

Lucas just looked utterly perplexed at him.

"Um… Okay…"

"If you don't believe me you can just ask him yourself if you'd like. He gave me his number", the duck informed and hauled up the blue card the canine had given him earlier from his pocket.

"No, it's cool", the Birman assured convinced and waved lightly with his hand. "I was just a little surprised."

"Yeah, he grabbed me _after_ you had left. Otherwise I would have told you earlier", Reginald said. At least that was _sort of_ true.

"Oh, it's no problem", the cat assured content.

"How did the workshop go by the way?" Reginald asked and went over and sat down in the small kitchen sofa.

"Ugh! I'm completely _exhausted!_ " the Birman groaned. "I haven't done _anything_ but _talking_ the whole day! I made some tea by the way. You want some too?"

"Yes! Sure!" Reginald said.

Lucas took out two cups from one of the cabinets over the kitchen sink and put them on the kitchen table, which was stuck to the wall at one end by the window, in front of the duck. Then he turned around and went over to get the teakettle, which stood on the stove a few feet away. He filled the two cups with the steaming liquid, and went back and placed the kettle on the stove again.

"You know, I've been thinking a little", Reginald suddenly said a bit cautiously. "If we're now going to frame Rhoda, why don't we try to make it all more believable?"

"What do you mean?" Lucas asked and turned down the heat on the stove plate.

"Well, I was thinking, if she now really _would_ have broken in at Mr. Sullivan's, she must have needed some kind of tool to get in, right?" Reginald pointed out. "And since there were no damages at the president's house the only likely way she would have been able to get inside without keys is by picking the lock."

Lucas furrowed and considered thoughtfully.

"Hm… That sounds pretty realistic."

"And when she gets arrested, what do you think is among the first things S.H.U.S.H. will do? Right, they're probably going to ransack her apartment to check her alibi. Then, don't you think the agency would be more convinced if they'd find _this_ among her belongings?"

Reginald hauled out a small transparent plastic bag containing the shiny lock pick in brass that Lucas had given to him earlier to practice on. One end was shaped like a paddle while the other end was crooked. "I've already fixed so her fingerprints are on it", the duck told proud.

"Really?" Lucas said impressed and sat down by his own teacup in the other kitchen sofa opposite to Reginald. He lifted the cup gently to his mouth and blew a little on the still hot liquid. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, it was pretty easy actually", Reginald began explaining and placed the plastic bag on the table in front of them. "You remember that I had laboratory practice a few days ago?"

"Was it the time with the poison ivy?"

"Um, no… but thanks for reminding me", he said a bit sarcastic. "No, I was referring to the one just recently. You see, this lock pick kind of reminds a little of the metallic sticks we use in the lab to blend chemicals in samplings tubes with. So, during the lesson, I just sneaked it down inside the jar containing these sticks. Then, I just let her dig around with her hand inside it."

He demonstrated by lifting his arm, letting his hand dangle and rolling his wrist like he was rummaging around inside an invisible jar on the table. "Then, it was just for me to fish it up afterwards. _And_ , the best part was that since I burned my hands last time, no one questioned why I was wearing gloves the whole time", the duck said contentedly and lightly wiggled his still quite red swollen fingertips.

The cat just stared impressed at him.

"Wow…! Okay, I gotta admit, that was actually very smart", the Birman told admiring and sipped a little on his drink. "You surprise me really."

"Oh! I can be _very_ surprising sometimes!" Reginald said and smiled slyly. He took a sip of his own tea and glanced a little hastily on the wall clock behind the cat.

"Heh! Yeah, I've sure noticed that during these last weeks", Lucas said. "Not to be like that or anything, but may I ask why you didn't informed me about this earlier?"

"Uh… well, um…", Reginald hesitated suddenly, unprepared on that question, and met the feline's blue suspicious eyes. Nervously, he bit his lower bill and glanced down into his teacup. "…you see… Ugh!"

The drake sighed stressed and lightly slammed his hand resignedly onthe table. "Okay, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you. I wasn't sure if I really _wanted_ to carry out this whole framing operation or not", he admitted and guiltily scratched his forehead under the headband.

"But now I am!" he hastily added. "I've considered it all more carefully and have realized that this is the best alternative. It's sad, really, but you're right, someone has to go down, and she was the only one who was alone during the same time as we were, sadly. Please, don't be too mad at me!"

Lucas looked critically at the small waterfowl that glowed with worry. That the duck had had second thoughts was not exactly news to him directly. He had suspected from the start that his best friend would hesitate.

"No, I'm not mad", Lucas assured. "I understand it's tough. I feel the same. It's not an easy choice we're making here. Heh! Now if _I_ 'm going to be honest I actually thought _you_ were going to bail out and turn _yourself_ in."

"Well, I actually _did_ seriously consider doing that just a while ago", Reginald revealed.

"What made you change your mind?" Lucas wondered interested.

"My greenhouse, and my future", he told low and serious. "I've worked _hard_ to get there I am today, and it means everything to me. I'm not going to let everything I've built up wither and die just because I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time!"

"Heh! Yeah, that would've been annoying", Lucas said and couldn't help but to chuckle a little on the inside. Typically Reginald to think of his plants first and foremost.

"Yeah, and besides, I think I might be moving up here in the world", he said contentedly and drank his tea.

"Touché!" Lucas said and pointed recalling at him. "So, do you have any ideas on how we're going get this thing to Rhoda's place? Now that you've made so much trouble to get her fingerprints on it and all?"

The cat took the small plastic bag and held it dangling in front of him.

"Well, she's going to be at a evening seminarian in two hours aaand… ten minutes", he enlightened, glancing up at the clock. "We could leave it there then."

"Sounds like a plan! Okay, let's wait here 'til then before we hit the road", Lucas decided and took another slurp.

"Great! Um… What do you think is going to happen to her, after S.H.U.S.H. has found all the fake evidences?" Reginald wondered anxiously suddenly.

"Well, she is obviously going to deny of course. Though since she doesn't have anything that can disprove her no one is likely going to believe her."

"What if she tells about our trip to Ajax?"

"She won't", Lucas said sure and calm. "One, she's to nice and loyal to the organization. Two, it would just be to her disadvantage. 'Cause, as far as what the Opals believe, she was the only one that was completely alone in the building for a longer time. That will lead to that even the members of the organization are going to disbelieve her. So no, I don't think we need to worry too much on _that_ front."

He made a small break to drink up the last of his tea. Thoughtfully, he looked at the tealeaves left at the bottom of the cup.

"However… one person that I _do_ believe may be harder to convince is Agent Hooter", the feline continued pensively. "He has already been suspicious about me for a long time now and is probably going to smell a rat. We need to be extra careful with him. I have to figure out a way on how to get off his radar. I might need your help there."

"I will stand by your side till the end", Reginald promised upright and serious.

"Excellent!" Lucas said and smiled contentedly.

The time went by as the two friends were waiting to leave. Reginald nervously looked up at the wall clock again and again at even shorter intervals. Eventually he found himself checking it off at least once every minute. Those were probably the most plagued two hours throughout his entire life.

"Are you okay?" Lucas suddenly wonderingly asked the drake, who, still sitting in the sofa, worrisomely was staring down into the kitchen table, one knee violently shaking.

"Huh? Oh, no! Sorry! It's just nerves", he assured apologetic.

Lucas had by now learned that his best friend could be a quite nervy and anxious kind of person. However, in his eyes, he thought he looked rather terrified this time.

"You do know you're doing the right thing?" the Birman asked checking, a bit suspicious.

"Yes, I _know_ ", said Reginald almost a little annoyed, more at himself rather than on the cat though. Stupid leg, stop shaking! "And you don't need to worry, I _won't_ bail out."

I _can't_ bail out either now.

The tone in the mallard's voice was clearly determined and sincere.

"Good…", Lucas, who still couldn't really shake off his suspicions, said. For some reason he got the feeling that something was wrong.

"Can I ask you something?" Reginald suddenly asked.

"Sure! Go ahead!"

"Do you ever regret anything of what you did?"

"Well, yes… Or… well, both yes and no", he answered, and thought for a while. "I might regret my ways and the sacrifices I've had to make. Though, I don't regret the results they have given. Living with the guilt and the secrets is really painful, especially in the beginning. But you learn to live with it, it becomes your everyday life. And with time, you learn to se the good things it has given. The city is a safer place. More people are happier and sees hope upon the future. It has all been worth it in the end. It's _that_ reminder that helps me keep going forward everyday."

Reginald reflected on what Lucas had just said and thought about how he himself was going to be able to handle living with all of this in his mind. On how he was going to look back on this whole event in the future. And how he then would be able to ever forgive himself.

"Well, I think its time to roll now", Lucas suddenly thought and stood up from the couch.

"What?! Already?!" Reginald cried nonplussed and threw an eye at the clock again. It was twenty to full.

"Yeah, she has probably already left the apartment by now. I'm just going to get the stuff and then we're off", he said and walked away and opened the top drawer of a dresser nearby.

"O-Okay", Reginald said, still a bit taken aback. He did his best to try to seem pretty calm and collected, but on the inside he felt a flood of panic washing all over him.

Lucas picked up two pairs of gloves and placed them on top of the drawer to then continue rummaging around among all the knickknacks and grains of sand at the bottom of the box to find his own lock pick.

"Ugh!"

The duck reacted when he heard the Birman's exhausted groan and watched the cat lean over the drawer, supporting himself with his elbow against the drawer's top and his forehead in his hand.

"How is it?" he asked wondering and got up from the couch and walked cautiously up to him.

"Ugh! I suddenly got so nauseous for some reason", Lucas told, feeling his body temperature rising. Heavily breathing, he suddenly felt a burning tingling feeling in his tongue.

"Do you want something? A glass of water?" Reginald wondered.

"No, it's fine", he said and waved a little with his other arm, still leaning over the drawer. "But maybe it's for the better if _you_ drive."

"Sure… No problem…", Reginald said a bit vigilant and turned around and started walking towards the van's driver seat. He stopped however before he even got half way. "… but I don't think that will be necessary."

"Huh?" Lucas was really surprised by hearing the duck's suddenly very cold words and turned his head in his direction. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The mallard slowly turned around back to him, with a cold and intimidatingly sincere look in his eyes.

"Because we're not going to frame her", he said flat.

"What?! You're bailing out _now…?!_ "

Ruffled, the cat stood up in a straight position, and suddenly felt a painful cramp in the arm he had just been supporting himself with. "Ouch…!" He painfully took his forearm with his other hand, only to find the same excruciating involuntary muscle contraction in that other arm.

"No, I never planned on framing Rhoda", the duck suddenly revealed indifferent.

"But… what was all that talk about the fingerprints on…?"

He had to interrupt himself as he felt the cramps spreading to his chest. The whole inside of his mouth was now burning so intense that it felt like he had swallowed fire. He made some valiant attempts to gasp for air, but it was as if his lungs had turned to stone.

"There's nothing on it", Reginald suddenly revealed while indifferently watching the scared upright standing paralyzed cat with the arms locked in a crossed position. "I just made all that up because I needed a distraction so I could take down the person that _truly_ deserves his punishment. The vilest and most despicable person I've ever met."

"And who would that be?" Lucas asked with a rattling voice as he terrified stared into the duck's ice-cold and sinister eyes.

"You."

Reginald watched the sparkle in the Birman's deep blue eyes go out right before the great leader lifeless fell to the floor, with a thud that made the whole van shake.

"I'm sorry."


	13. Seed No Evil

**13\. Seed No Evil**

Silence spread between the six youths that waiting was sitting lined up on a bench along the wall in the waiting hall of S.H.U.S.H.'s headquarter. Far away to the left, towards the exit, the receptionist was heard talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes agents and other employees of the agency passed them by, most of them without paying them much attention.

"Urgh!" Femme groaned irritated and suddenly stood up from the bench. She walked over towards the door at the end of the hallway to the left of them and looked through the square glass window.

"Really? Exactly _what_ is it that's taking so long?!" she asked vexed. "How much time do you need to just go and get a few freaking _papers?!_ URGH!" The young vixen struggled to resist the temptation to kick in the door.

"Can you, please, at least _try_ to calm down?" Gloria asked her a bit annoyed.

"Yeah, or else I bet these dudes around here will put you back in jail again in no time", Castor said a bit half sarcastic.

The red fox sighed and reluctantly went back to her seat between Castor and Gloria, frustratingly crossing her arms.

"I can't believe he's really gone…", Rhoda mumbled depressed.

"Me neither…", sighed Castor, who was sitting to the left of her.

"A heart attack… That… That's just so _undignified_ ", Femme said, quite upset.

"I thought Lucas was a vegetarian", Castor mentioned wondering.

"Heart attacks can be caused by other reasons than simply just bad diet", Gloria informed. "I believe it could have been stress."

"Yeah, he did work hard during his last days", Fethry said sad.

It can also be caused by the poison from an Aconitum napellus, also known as monkshood, wolf's bane or aconite, one of the deadliest plants in the world, Reginald thought. A dose of less than 0.09 milligrams per kilogram was enough to kill a cat in about two hours after ingestion. The poison affects the nerve system and paralyzes the muscles, including the heart muscle. Life-threatening disturbances of the heart rhythm occurs and the victim eventually dies of cardiac arrest, which can be likened to that the person dies of a heart attack. Reginald mainly grew the plant to keep rats and other vermin away from his greenhouse, but it works just as good on bigger animals as well. That's the beauty of aconite, both very pretty _and_ incredibly deathly. The best part was that Reginald only had had to sneak down such a ridiculously small dose of the poison into Lucas tea when the cat had looked away, which meant that it also was as far as impossible to trace during an autopsy. Therefore, no one would ever be able to prove that Lucas Whiskers's death was a homicide.

Whole St. Canard had mourned the loss of the city's great hero, and the City Council was planning to name a street after him in his memory. Reginald personally didn't think he was worthy of that, but then he realized that the memory was actually more for the _people's_ sake rather than for Lucas himself. Something the duck actually precisely had been after. No one was ever going to know about the leader of O.P.A.L.'s dark businesses. Lucas Whiskers would die as the hero everyone saw him as. Because even though he was gone, his visions still lived on. Only Reginald would know about the cat's true color.

He still brooded sometimes over whether he really made the right decision or not. He had murdered one of St. Canard's most dangerous serial killers… What did that made him into? A hero…? A villain…?

At the same time, he had also saved the lives of the people who also would have fallen victim to Lucas's assessment. For better or worse maybe, considering the majority of them probably deserved their punishment. However, he _did_ know for sure that there was at least _one_ person on that list who certainly did _not_ deserve to go down, and she was sitting right next to him.

Reverently he glanced at the sad brunette on his left side. The fact that he somewhere in this dark roller coaster ride actually did manage to save the little light that still remained made him believe that he somehow must have done at least _something_ right.

She and the others was going to be sad now, but they'll get over it. It was, after all, still less painful than if they would have gotten to know the truth. If people knew what the duck had done for them, many would probably have been grateful. Besides, Lucas would probably have gotten the electric chair sooner or later anyway. All Reginald had done was sparing them at least the worst pain, plus freeing himself from that wretched cat's mercy.

Still, to say that Reginald didn't completely miss Lucas would be a lie. He may not miss him directly as a person, but he _did_ however miss the nice friendship they had had together. When all came about, Lucas _had_ after all been the closest to a real friend he'd ever had. Betraying and ending his life had been way harder than he had thought it was going to be, and he _of course_ had been very well-aware of that it _sure_ wasn't going to be easy. He still, in the evenings, expected to hear the cat step into his greenhouses, happily shouting: "Hey yo, buddy!" It hurt in his heart that no one ever was going to do that. He was once again back walking in the dark valley of loneliness, and this time it was even darker and more lonely than ever.

Suddenly, the door to the left opened up and out stepped two white-feathered middle-aged bird agents. Reginald recognized the tall one of them, a hawk. It was the famous celebrity Derek Blunt, one of S.H.U.S.H.'s top agents, who also had written many famous spy novels. The other man, who was much shorter and had tiny round glasses, black thin hair and who seemed to be a crossbreed between a goose and an owl Reginald would have guessed, he didn't recognize though. However, he was pretty sure that that was Jake Gander Hooter, much due to the fact that it actually had been _he_ who'd called them all over to discuss Lucas's will. Given that Hooter already had been suspicious about Lucas, Reginald wasn't that particularly surprised to hear that _he_ had been the one who'd chosen to take care of the investigation regarding the leader's death.

Reginald vigilantly glanced a bit contemplated at the goose-owl while he, a bit subconsciously, tried to hide behind his companions, who'd all was getting up from the bench to say hi. So, _this_ was the man that Lucas had feared so much…

In order not to stand out from the crowd the duck followed the other's example and stood up and walked over to hear what the two crime-fighters had to say, trying not to look too nervous. Considering the quite severe things he had committed lately, you'd think the drake really would try to stay as far away from S.H.U.S.H. and other crime-fighting businesses as possible, for his own sake. Though, this time however, it was actually very important for him to be there. He had to make sure that everything went according to plans.

"Good afternoon, I'm Agent Jake Gander Hooter and this is my colleague Derek Blunt", Hooter greeted politely. "I believe I've met some of you already regarding another case."

"Yes, that is right", Rhoda confirmed.

"I've got Mr. Whiskers's will here", Hooter told and held up the papers in his hand. "Why don't you come with me so we can discuss the part regarding the future of the organization O.P.A.L.?"

The goose-owl turned around to go back into the room he and his colleague just had come from.

"Oh, and by the way, I'm deeply sorry for your loss", he added sorry and turned sad back to them.

The youths joined the two agents through the door that led into a big open office plan where several employees were sitting by their desks, doing paperwork. Reginald viewed the bunch of black-and-white wanted-posters hanging spread over the walls, picturing some of St. Canard's most infamous villains, among them Taurus Bulba and Blunt's archenemy Phineas Sharp, all nefariously smiling at him.

The gang stopped and Hooter started looking for the keys in his pocket to the door in front of them, leading into a small meeting room. The youths took place around the long rectangular table in the middle of the room. Hooter took seat by one end of the table and Blunt sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, to make place for the O.P.A.L. members.

Hooter thumbed through the pile of papers in his hand and picked out one specific. Reginald immediately recognized the little dog-ear in the upper right corner of the document. Hooter put down the rest of the papers next to a small cube-shaped wooden box with lid that was lying on the table next to him.

"I'll read it loud: 'My wish is that all activities regarding O.P.A.L., the Organization of Peace And Love, is going to keep on with its business uninterruptedly even though I am absent. The organization was after all not built up by only one person, but by many. Many who all share the same vision about a better world. As long as you're still around, the hope still lives. The person who I have chosen as my successor to lead O.P.A.L. is someone I find really symbolizes everything the organizations stands for, and whom I believe is going to take the role serious. This person has proven being responsible, devoted, loyal, moral and fair, and is among the wisest and most insightful persons I've ever been lucky to get to know. I give my biggest congratulations to Miss Rhoda Dendron, O.P.A.L.'s new leader.'"

"What?!" the brunette exclaimed, very surprised and shocked by the news.

"Wow! Well, congratulation!" Castor congratulated her reverently, also he quite surprised, but not displeased. The others in the group seemed to share his reaction and filled in with congratulations.

"Wait a minute here!" Rhoda interrupted them all hasty, overwhelmed by the new responsibility that now was lying on her shoulders. "This is crazy! I can't replace _him!_ "

"Why not?" Fethry questioned.

"Yeah? Now when I think about it, you _are_ actually the one among us who's best qualified", Gloria agreed. "And Lucas always valued your opinions the most."

"But… I'm not Lucas…", Rhoda remarked a bit discouraged.

Which had been one of the reasons why Reginald had picked her.

Since Lucas did make Reginald vice-president of O.P.A.L., the leader-title technically passed on to him the moment the Birman fell lifeless to the floor. However, the drake knew that a lot of people would have questioned why Lucas had chosen _him_ out of all people, which may have led to that he would have been suspected, and eventually probably even exposed, as Lucas's murder. Therefor, he had chosen to erase his own name from the cat's will and instead, as his only act as the new leader of O.P.A.L., appoint Rhoda as successor. Honestly, he couldn't have pictured anyone more fitting for the role. Rhoda was the nicest and most pure-hearted person he had ever met. Also, he kind of thought she deserved it, after all the trouble.

"We'll help you", Gloria promised her. "You won't have to do everything on your own."

"Oh! One more thing! I'm supposed to hand over this to you", Hooter interjected all of a sudden and shuffled over the small wooden box across the table toward the female duck. She lifted the lid and found Lucas's opal necklace inside, resting on top of a white silk cushion.

"According to Mr. Whiskers, the stone belongs to the organization and is supposed to be taken cared of by the leader", Hooter informed, half-reading the document.

Rhoda gently took up the shiny stone and regardfully studied the rainbow colored shimmer reflecting towards its polished surface.

"Alright, I'll do my best. I'm going to my very best to lead the organization", she decided determinate. "For Lucas."

"FOR LUCAS!" the other members repeated determinate together in chorus and raised their hands in the air, Reginald only half-heartedly and without really uttering the words.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Once again, it's good that I'm a science nerd, aaaand a fan of Dexter.**_


	14. Hidden Monsters

**14\. Hidden Monsters**

Jake Gander thoughtfully rubbed his chin as he watched the six O.P.A.L. members, who were standing talking in the corridor, through the door window, ready to leave the agency.

"Let me guess, you don't believe Mr. Whiskers's death was just a mere coincident?" Derek asked presuming behind him.

"Not for a minute!" Gander said convinced. "I interrogated him about Mr. Sullivan's disappearance less than a week earlier and let him know that he was a suspect. A few days later he's found dead. Coincident? I don't think so."

The two agents watched as the six youths headed out through the exit. Could anyone of them be the murderer? The culprit is usually someone close to the victim. However, since Lucas had been a public figure and therefor had had a very large circle of friends, it was going to be very difficult to figure out who's responsible for his death.

It could be anyone, Gander thought while carefully studying the members with his eyes one by one as they walked out through the door. It could have been the fox girl, who he'd heard the police already had had a lot of troubles with. Or the big guy, who had been in the organization for a long time and apparently had had a pretty good relation with the cat. It could even have been the guy in green, who hadn't said a word during the whole time. Or someone completely else.

"According to the report, Mr. Whiskers died of cardiac arrest", Derek reminded.

"Exactly, which I find very strange", Gander said and started walking across the office landscape towards his desk. "There are absolutely _no_ medical reports on that Mr. Whiskers or anyone in his family have had any particular difficulties with heart diseases earlier. On top of that, he was a pretty healthy person."

"It could have been caused by stress", Derek suggested, following him.

"It could also have been caused by poisoning. There are a lot of different kinds of poisons that can trigger a heart attack."

"But according to the autopsy no such preparations where found in his body."

"No… that's where the shoe pinches…", Gander said sad. He had really hoped that the autopsy results would have lead them somewhere and had therefore been really disappointed, not to mention incredibly bewildered, when the test had shown negative. He was well aware of that there were a lot of toxins that sometimes have a tendency to slip through undetected during the analyses. He had therefore asked them to redo the test _three times_ , just to be sure. Despite that, the results still showed no particular variances.

Gander sat down by his, a bit half-messy, desk and could not help but to quickly glance at the autopsy report, which happened to be on top of the quite sloppy piled stack of paper on the table, with the word 'NEGATIVE' clearly displayed in large letters. How the heck did he do it?!

Derek took place by his own desk, which was right opposite to the colleague's.

"Another thing that I also find very curious", the black-haired agent said, "is the fact that we weren't able to find _any_ fingerprint inside, or even on the _outside_ , of his van. It's like the place had been cleaned just before we got there."

"Yeah, I've been pondering over that too. You'd think the guy at least would have left prints from _himself_ ", Derek said. "Though, as far as _I_ see, the only kind of evidence we've got here is the _lack_ of evidence."

"Yes, which sadly doesn't really help us to make any progresses in the investigation", Gander said troubled and began thumbing around among his papers. " _One_ thing that I am pretty sure of though is that _if_ Mr. Whiskers really _was_ murdered, the perpetrator probably must have known something about his involving in the disappearance of Mr. Penber and the others."

"You _still_ believe Mr. Whiskers was this Judicator, who's speculate to have made his own justice against all the opponents of O.P.A.L. that walked free from trial?" Derek questioned.

"I'm _sure_ he was our man! And this incident just confirms it even _more!_ " Gander said, so convinced that he slammed his fist on the table. "I checked Mr. Whiskers's alibi against all of the Judicator's victims and have found a lot of holes. On top of that, he also _perfectly_ fits the perpetrator profile we made for the Judicator."

He took out one of the documents from the pile. "This is what it says: 'The perpetrator is _one_ person who acts alone and who, counted from the time of the first victim, today likely would be by the age of 25 or older. He/She has some kind of connection to O.P.A.L. and has or knows someone who has access to the organization's information. They wish to benefit the organization. The criminal is known to be neat, considering, very patience and thinks very far in advance. They've got contacts in the police and media. They're knowledgeable in vehicle mechanic and have a driving license.'"

He handed over the document to his colleague after having finished reading it so he could double-check. "It's like _written_ for Mr. Whiskers! There's only one thing we never took in account", Gander continued, "and that is that someone else _knew_ about the Judicator's identity! The question is if it's only _one_ person or more…"

"How do you know that _this_ isn't the real Judicator and that Mr. Whiskers only was his tool that he chose to get rid of when we got too close?" Derek questioned after quickly have eyed through the text.

"Because none of the other victims died of a heart attack", Gander pointed out short. "It's pretty unusual for a serial killer to suddenly change his methods, especially this late in the career. When you look at the way of death for the Judicator's victims you'll see that each method he has used has been used more than at least once, and they are all very simple and uncomplicated. Also, if we take the profile in regard, we see that this really isn't the kind of person who just like that would change his methods and put himself at risk just to experiment a little. Besides, we're all pretty sure of that the Judicator wanted O.P.A.L. to _succeed._ No, this was _definitely_ someone else's work."

Derek thought carefully for a moment.

"That actually doesn't sound unrealistic", the hawk admitted. "So, what are your thoughts around this guy? Do you think they could be an opponent of Mr. Whiskers, or maybe a former accomplice who turned against him?"

"That is still up to question. In any case, something we _can_ ask in whatever their relation to him were is: If this person now did know the Judicator's identity, why didn't they reported it to the police?"

"Maybe they didn't have enough evidence?" Derek suggested. "Or… maybe Mr. Whiskers had something _on_ them that prevented them from telling?"

"That's what I've been thinking too. I've analyzed all the information we have on them both and I've come up with a theory", Gander told and began to rummage through his pile of papers again.

Does he ever take time to sleep, Derek couldn't help but to wonder.

"Of course, this is only an assumption", Gander admitted, "but I would guess that the murderer didn't get on the Judicator's tail until relative recently. Maybe, just _maybe_ , around the time of the disappearing of the Judicator's last victim: Mr. Roland D. Sullivan."

He held up the form about the director's case, which had a black and white photograph of the big dog in the upper right corner. "Think about it, what is it that differs Sullivan's case from the other victims'? Right, he was _the only one_ that never had been in court against O.P.A.L.", Gander emphasized. "The organization _was_ however working on a plaint against his company, but it still hadn't been tried. Since we already come to the conclusion that the Judicator intentionally went by an irregular pattern for when to execute his victims, we all at first thought that this was just a coincidence. Though, now when I've taken a more careful look at the case, I'm starting to believe that the whole thing may have been unintended. Sullivan probably died by accident. Because, if you remember, even though no one yet have managed to locate his body, we _did_ find his car and _inside that_ we found the director's wallet, keys and ID. Okay, what if we try to look at it all from a different perspective: Let's say _you're_ the killer…"

Derek winced a little, slightly offended, when the colleague pointed direct at him.

"…and you _plan_ on murdering Sullivan. And to cover it all up you make it look like the victim has fled the city. Now, how would _you_ do it? Since you're still planning on getting rid of his car, wouldn't you just make it all very easy for yourself and just plant the corps in the trunk and _then_ dump it all together in the river? Because, even if you had chosen to dump the evidences on different spots to make it harder for the crime investigators, I do believe you would have been a little more considering about leaving his ID and credit card in the car. Why would you do that? That _was_ after all what gave the homicide away from the first start! No, compared to the Judicator's other works _this_ was very carelessly done, and most likely made in a haste. I'm telling you, I'm pretty sure things didn't really quite go as planned that night."

"And you believe that this… Tail… may have been involved here somehow?" Derek questioned.

"It wouldn't surprize me", Gander said. "When it comes to Sullivan, I'm starting to think that he probably have been extinguished, since his body hasn't been found by now despite active searching. He may have fallen down into the bay and been washed away to the sea, or burned to death, or something that way. That would at least explain why the culprit wasn't able to return the body and why he, whether it was on purpose or not, got rid of his belongings together with the vehicle."

"Do you have any ideas on how we can identify them?" Derek wondered.

"I've already start working on a perpetrator profile on… Let's call them The Tail, as you suggested", Gander said and pulled out a lined pad and flipped over to a page with simple, a bit half-sloppy written, text. "On the basis of the information we have on Mr. Whiskers's death, we can come to terms with that the Tail consist of either one or more persons who in some way likely has some form of, or knows someone with, knowledge in advance chemistry and knows how to obtain toxic substances. They are extremely carefully, considerately and had some kind of relation to Mr. Whiskers. Now, what _kind_ of relationship they had though is still hard to say. There are many likely ways they may have been connected, but there are two alternatives that I find most likely. And those are the two that you just mentioned earlier, that the Tail either is an opponent of Mr. Whiskers or a former follower. An opponent would actually not seem very unlikely since Mr. Whiskers was a public person with lots of opinions, and therefor also had quite many enemies. If given that the Tail was an opponent, the conclusions we can draw are that Mr. Whiskers was completely oblivious of that he was in any danger. No one close to him could at least confirm that he had shown any kind of signs that he was feeling threatened or that he had any considerations of taking extra precautions. Given that the perpetrator's action obviously _wasn't_ simply to make some kind of statement or to seek attention, the homicide seem to have been in more of a personal manner rather than business manner. It may have been planned, or at least been in consideration, for a pretty long time. It's possible that the murderer may have been after him for quite a while. They may have had some form of relation to any of the Judicator's victims and wanted vengeance on him."

"You're assuming now that Mr. Whiskers really _was_ the Judicator?" Derek checked.

"Exactly", Gander clarified short before continuing. "Somehow, Sullivan came into the picture, and due to his death Mr. Whiskers's identity as the Judicator was revealed, so the Tail chose to kill him."

"Why didn't they just go to the police then?" Derek questioned.

"That's the interesting question, though there _are_ lots of reason why some people choose not to contact the police or us", Gander pointed out. "They might have been under threats, not have had enough evidences or they may even have their _own_ skeletons in their closet that they didn't want to be revealed."

The goose-owl took a short pause to turn the page in his booklet.

"Let's move on to alternative two: that the Tail's a former follower to Mr. Whiskers who, probably by accident, found out about his secret identity as the Judicator; possibly around the time of the death of Mr. Sullivan. If that's the case, the person is probably a member of O.P.A.L. and looked up to Mr. Whiskers. They didn't want to sully the organization and its leader's reputation, so they were persuaded to keep silent, which would explain why they didn't go to the police and also why they wanted Mr. Whiskers's death to look like an accident. It's possible that the Tail was threatened by the Judicator, maybe even abused. That could be one reason why he chose to kill him. It could also have been because they got to know about that we were close to track down the Judicator and wanted to hinder us from ever be able to unveil the Judicator's true identity. Or maybe both. If I would just guess wildly I would probably bet my money on that alternative two likely is the correct one, but given how little we actually know about this person, it's way to early to exclude anything yet."

"Are there absolutely nothing more we can take into account?" Derek wondered. "What about Sullivan?"

"The only clues we have on Mr. Sullivan are those we found together with his car", Gander remonstrated. "Another, _vaguer_ , clue though is the beaker of the chemical Mordaaar…"

He glanced down at one of the documents on the table. "…vaxxx…tocid, which was discovered absent from one of the laboratories at Ajax Chemicals. Though, first of all, since that thing was noticed missing first a week _after_ Mr. Sullivan's disappearance we don't know if it's really connection to the case or not. Second, no one knows what kind of traits the chemical had since the product still hadn't been tested yet. It was also the only bottle existing."

"What was really the chemical's purpose?"

"Apparently, it was supposed to be used as a kind of detergent to dissolve tougher deputations of organic fat inside sewage pipes. I do find it very odd though why anyone wanted to steal something like _that._ "

"Yeah, especially considering everything _else_ that _also_ was preserved in the building", Derek mentioned. "How come _that_ particular thing was so interesting?"

"It may not have been interesting at all", Gander suggested and shrugged a little. "It's possible that someone just happened to drop the bottle and then just cleaned up without telling anyone. Whether this 'someone' however was any of our criminals, an employee of Ajax, Sullivan himself or someone else, we don't know."

"Well, I don't give particular much credit to the security precautions at Ajax Chemicals, _that's_ for sure", Derek muttered, a bit outraged. "None of the workers could confirm anything though. What more on the case do we have to work with?"

"The only other closest to connections we have are friends and family of the Judicator's victims and O.P.A.L."

"… Those seems like two pretty wide areas…", Derek commented a bit unsure. "And didn't we, by the way, already interrogate all the close ones of the victims, plus all the highest ranked members of O.P.A.L.? None of them could tell anything specific and they all have waterproof alibis for the time when Mr. Whiskers was calculated to have died. The new leader Miss Dendron, for example, was on an evening seminarian, something her friends could confirm."

"Then I guess we have to start interrogating the other members of the organization as well", Gander thought. "I would also like to make another search through of Mr. Sullivan's work place at Ajax Chemicals, his house and his car. Make sure we haven't missed anything…"

"You want us to interrogate _all_ of the over three-hundred members?!" Derek questioned. "That's going to take months! And it's not even sure the Tail is among them or that any of them even _knows_ him."

Jake Gander noted doubt in the hawk's words.

"Are you saying you believe this whole investigation is pointless and that we just should give up and cancel the case?" he asked quite disappointed.

"Hey, I've worked with you a long time enough to have learned by now that your theories usually are correct. I can see why the government has nominated you to become the next director of S.H.U.S.H.", Derek said respectful. "But with all respect, as far as _I_ see, we don't really have any proof nor leads that we can make an effective follow-up on. We've already search through all those places you just mentioned, we've got no really _useful_ profile on the criminal, no suspects and our main suspect for the Judicator is dead. Besides, I don't think I need to remind you of the fact that we actually happen to be standing before even _bigger_ threats for the moment."

Derek glanced referring at one of the posters on the wall that depicted F.O.W.L. agent Phineas Sharp nefariously grinning at them. "I'm not saying that this case isn't important. All I'm saying is that we probably won't be able to get anywhere with it right now. So, instead of wasting our time clutching at straws after a killer, who, if I may remind you, still only is _hypothetic_ , I consider it more useful to focus on capturing criminals that we _do_ know truly are a grave danger right now."

Gander sighed. "You're right, F.O.W.L. is always priority number one. It's just that I don't like having to let this person get away. Especially not now when we were _this close_ …"

Annoyed, the goose-owl held up his hand with thumb and forefinger only an inch apart.

"…on capturing the Judicator!"

"Yeah, I feel you. You've put down a lot of effort on capturing the Judicator", Derek said sorry. "Having to close the case because of losing the main suspect to _another_ criminal sure must be miserable."

"Yeah, I know I swore on to make sure that the Judicator was getting brought for justice, but this was really _not_ what I had in mind", Gander sighed troubled. "Still, that's not what concerns me the most. The Judicator sure may have been very tough and successful, and probably one of the most dangerous and well-camouflaged out of these "hidden threats" we've ever stood before. _But_ , the fact that _out there_ …"

Upset, Gander pointed referring out the window to the left.

"…someone, a _completely_ unknown person, out of nowhere _actually_ managed to _get_ to him, close enough to end his life. In an _incredible_ clever way too, and without leaving _any_ trace. _That's_ what scares me the most. I fear that this person may have the tools to become an even _greater_ danger one day. More dangerous than the Judicator…"

Brisk footsteps were heard behind them.

"Sirs! We've finally managed to decipher the message from F.O.W.L., and we think we may have located Sharp's hideout!" a young bear agent with a Russian accent cried.

The bear handed over a document with the address of Agent Sharp's hideout to Derek.

"We're leaving immediately!" the hawk decided and stood up from the chair.

"Great job Mr. Grizzlykof!" Gander thanked him.

The two bird agents grabbed their jackets that were hanging on the backrest of the chairs and quickly put them on on the fly as they started walking towards the exit.

"What are you going to do about the Tail then?" Derek asked Gander as they walked across the office landscape and out to the parking outside the building.

"Well, as you said, we don't have anything that we can make a particular effective follow-up on right now, and taking care of Sharp _is_ more important", Gander said serious. "We therefor have no choice but to table the case."

Derek took out the key to his reddish brown Volkswagen Beetle from his pocket, pressed the key into the door lock to the driver's side and turned to open.

"Hopefully, we'll be able to catch the Tail later in the future", Derek said a bit comforting and jumped into the driver's seat and reached out and pulled up the lock to the door on the passenger side to the right.

"Yeah… and if not by us, maybe by someone else", Gander said thoughtfully and sat down at the passenger seat.

"Do you really think this guy actually may become a severe threat to us all one day?" Derek asked as he slowly started to drive out of the parking towards the road.

"I said he may have the _tools_ to become a great danger", Gander corrected. "The question is how he's going to choose to use them."

"Well, I guess all we can do for now is to hope that he chooses the right decision", Derek said before they hit the road.


	15. Regenerating Reginald

**15\. Regenerating Reginald**

"What? You want to drop out the organization?!" Rhoda asked quite chocked when Reginald told the gang the news right after they'd left the agency building.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it a lot lately… Oh! Don't misunderstand me! It's not because I doubt you're going to do a great job or so!" the duck quickly explained, hasty waving his hands in front of him. "It's right the opposite, I don't see how anyone else would have been able to do it better. Really. No, it's just that I don't think this really was my… thing, that's all. I still do share your values about a better world though. I just… believe that there are other paths to get there. I _am_ studying to become a scientist, and I've got a lot of ideas and theories myself that I really wish to take my time to work on and try to evolve. I believe I'll be able to do a lot more on that front. Besides… this kind of brings up bad memories…"

"I understand", Rhoda said a bit sad. "You're always welcome back if you'd like to. It's sad though, I'm going to miss you. It won't be the same without you."

She's going to miss me? Aw, Reginald thought touched and almost immediately regretted his decision. But no, it was for the best. With all of this in mind he didn't know how long he would be able to look any of them in the eyes with a straight face and hear them talk about what a great person that false cat had been without eventually lose it. Unlike Lucas, Reginald had an awful poker face. He just felt so incredibly guilty in their presence. No, it was better for his own sake if he just stayed away from them as much as possible, and for their sake too.

He was still going to see Rhoda during class, but given that she probably wouldn't even have been able to continue _going_ to those lessons if it hadn't been for him, he didn't feel that at unease. Besides, she didn't even like him that way. Right? Or… _maybe…?_ She _did_ after all just say that she was going to miss him… And she _did_ say to Lucas that she _could_ consider hooking up if it was with someone she _truly_ felt right with… Who said that that 'someone' couldn't be he? Who knows what the future might bring? Maybe he just needed to give her a little more time. And _then_ …

"We're going to miss you too Ragnar", Castor said.

Yeah, I sure hear that, Reginald thought sarcastic. At least he could rejoice in the fact that Rhoda didn't like _him_ either. Rather a tie than having to lose to _that_ dope.

"I fear there are going to be quite many who are also going to drop out", Gloria sighed troubled.

"Well _someone's_ being optimistic!" Femme said ironic.

"I'm just being realistic", she remarked.

"Ah, c'me on! We just have to do our very best", Castor said encouraging. "We can't just give up."

"Yeah, he's right", Fethry agreed. "That's not what Lucas would have wanted."

"Well, I'm not Lucas, but I am going to do my very best to lead the Opals just the way he did", Rhoda promised.

Oh, please, don't do that, sweetie, Reginald thought horrified.

"I don't think you should", he said.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Rhoda asked confused.

"Well, like you said: You're not Lucas. Lucas was… well… one of a kind, and his shoes are pretty big to fill. No one can really replace him. So, in my opinion, instead of trying to imitate him, I think you should try to lead the organization in your _own_ way. I'm sure that's the reason why the former leader chose you. Because he's got faith in your judgment", Reginald said and smiled sure.

Rhoda thought through his words for a moment.

"You know, that was very good said. Thank you! I am going to take that in mind", she said impressed and felt much more comfortable in her new role now.

"I am sure everything is going to be just fine", Reginald said trustingly and glanced down a little on the opal stone that now was hanging around the female duck's neck. It looked good on her.

"Hey, guys, which time does your buses leaves?" Castor suddenly asked them all. "'Cause mine's leaving in ten minutes."

"I'm probably going to take the same one as you", Gloria said.

"Well, I haven't looked up when mine's leaving, but I recon it probably stops by the same station", Femme said frivolously and shrugged. "We can at least start _moving_ , instead of just standing here like idiots."

"Um, I'm going to do an errand so I'll be heading this way", Reginald told, pointing with his thumb back over his shoulder, in the opposite direction from where the bus stop was.

"Okay, I'll see you in class tomorrow!" Rhoda said before joining the other member to the bus stop.

"I wouldn't miss it", Reginald assured. "See ya!"

He kept looking at her briefly before he turned around and started walking down the street. Unruffled, he studied the furrows between the gray rectangular stone tiles on the sidewalk he was walking on. He stepped on a badly secured manhole cover that said 'clonk' beneath his webbed foot. To the left, the traffic past him by with its constant annoying noise. He looked up at the tall gray and beige-yellow buildings he was walking next to that rose as high walls in a giant maze.

It felt like it was a long time since he walked here last, though it actually probably only was a few weeks ago. He had been a completely different person back then.

Nothing in the area had really changed. Still, everything felt so different for some reason. Even the colors had changed. The world seemed to have gotten a duller and darker tone. Was it because winter was closing in?

With his hands digging around in his pockets on the shirt he finally got a grip on Luna's dice, which he had hasty, without really have planned in advance, chosen to bring along with him before he left Lucas's home. He still wasn't quite sure why he had taken it. It had just felt right that moment for some reason. Besides, it's not like anyone would question its absence. No one but he knew why Lucas had had it.

He picked up the small plastic cube and let it roll between his thumb and index finger as he looked at the black dots on the sides. He thought about the story behind it, about his sister. It had been that grief that had made Lucas fall into the abyss of darkness, something he never got out off. Lucas had already been dead long before Reginald poisoned him. It was a sad fact, but it did make Reginald feel at least some kind of peace. At least now the cat was free from all the pain he had been carrying for so long.

His eyes fell on the side of the dice that was occupied by only one single dot in the middle. The small black dot stared back at him like a pupil of a cubic-shaped eyeball. Reginald suddenly came to think of the time when he had been at Lucas's office and the cat had rolled the cub across the table. Which number was it that it had landed on then? Had it not been one? One… In less than one year… That had been his last throw. And it had been for himself…

He put back the dice in his pocket as he continued to walk. He got to a flower shop that sold flower bouquets. Outside the entrance, a tall cylindric black plastic-box containing already finished bundles with various hybrids of tulips and roses in different colors stood, with a white sign under saying $5.99 written with magenta ink.

Poor little guys, he thought sad. They're all going to be dead within a week. Probably, they are going to be put in a vase with water where they will be condemned to a slow painful death. Just to fill people's pleasures for a few hours!

It made him angry just to look at them. Stupid people! It should be forbidden for stupid people to even exist!

 _Wasn't that just the way Lucas had thought?_

"There's a huge difference between Lucas and I", he remarked low.

Even though they both may have had kind of similar values and Reginald perhaps could admit that some portions of Lucas's personal philosophy might not have been so bad really. Yet, there was at least _one_ big thing that separated the two of them a lot.

 _And what would that be?_

Reginald watched his own serious and resolute reflection in the dark window glass to the closed shop.

"I would never hurt an innocent", he noted low and undoubtedly.

He kept walking along the street. The feline may indeed have managed to trick him, and whole St. Canard for that matter, with his words and promises. But they could all consider themselves lucky that Lucas at least had made _one_ very big mistake: turning his back, both literally and figuratively, on someone who knew how to use the power of the plants.

"If you mess with a flower-dude, you can expect to _get_ flowers in return! Hehehe!" Reginald said witty for himself and could not help but to laugh a little complacent. At least he had gotten a considerably better confidence now. This whole story had made him realize that maybe he _wasn't_ so insignificantly after all, and that he probably possessed more power than he previously thought. He could probably do _anything_ if he so wanted. After all, when you really think about it, nothing is actually _completely_ impossible. All you need is to be open for the possibilities.

Some people might consider murdering Lucas was immoral, and that it didn't really make Reginald a better person than he. Others, on the other hand, may agree on that it was the best for everyone, since Lucas never would be able to hurt anyone again and the Opals never would have to know the true face of their respected leader. But when all came about, what did it really matter? After all, exactly _who_ really decides what's right and wrong? All the drake knew was that both he and the world were free from Lucas, for better or worse maybe. The duck knew he wasn't an altogether evil person, but also that he may not exactly be an angel either. He was just… Reginald. And when thinking about it, he realized that he was actually pretty content with just being that. He was free from Lucas, and it felt good to have given the Opals a leader they truly deserved. But best of all, Sullivan's scream had finally stopped.

He got to a four-way crossroad with zebra crossings stripes painted over the way to the nearby streets. At the street to the left of him, across the road, stood a gray and red telephone box. A bit hastily, he pressed the button to activate the crosswalk signal. He then let a reddish brown Volkswagen Beetle pass by before he quickly scurried over, without waiting for the signal to turn green. He stepped into the phone booth and closed the door behind him. Digging around with his hand among the rattling coins in his pocket, he finally managed to fish up a few pennies plus the phone number card. He lifted the black handset, let the coins roll into the machine and then started dialing the number on the rotary dial. He swore annoyed when he accidentally slipped with his finger and dropped the disc when he was trying to go for number zero, and therefor had to hang up to redial, and pay again.

Waiting for someone to answer, he half impatiently drummed his fingers a little on top of the payphone while listening to the slow repeating beep from the handset. A few seconds later, the clanking sound of someone picking up the receiver on the other end was heard.

 _"Hello?"_

"Hello, it's Reggie. I've got something I want you to do for me."


	16. Storms Bring Strange Loyalties

**16\. Storms Bring Strange Loyalties**

The rain was pouring down so intense that it looked like a bunch of thin rods was shooting down from the gray-clouded sky. Lucas reluctantly sighed as he watched the water masses outside the glass walls of Reginald's greenhouse.

"Ugh! Water! If it hadn't been that I have a very important errand to make I really wouldn't have minded staying here a bit longer", the cat said. "Oh well!"

He picked up the azure blue umbrella, which still was a bit clammy from earlier, from Reginald's umbrella stand.

"You'll see, Reggie, everything's going to turn out fine. You're doing the right thing", the feline tried to encouraging convince the sad and mixed-up waterfowl.

"Yeah I guess", he sighed low.

Lucas gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Everything _will_ be fine", he promised and looked him deep into the eyes. "Well, see you later, pal!"

Lucas opened the door and stepped out into the storm while quickly pulling up the umbrella at the same time.

"Bye!" the cat called with one hand lifted back towards his friend and began walking down hill.

"Bye", Reginald called back low and perfunctorily and closed the door behind him.

The wet gravel splashing crunched beneath his feet as the Birman followed the soaked trail. Digging around with his hand in the pocket he fished out the little enclosed plastic bag containing the tiny brown-beige button. Determined, he viewed the four small holes in the middle of the tiny disc through the transparent bag. At least now he knew which side his best friend was on.

* * *

"Is your throat dry? Are you yearning for something refreshing? Then, Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water has just what you need! Our water is said to be the purest and the most good-tasting in whole St. Canard according to the critics. Today we _also_ happen to have a few extra special offers in form of _brand new flavors!_ These products are yet not available on the market and can _only_ be purchased here directly through me, Bud Flud, salesman and son of the president of Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water. _And_ , if you buy right now you will _also_ receive…"

Reginald could hear the canine's voice from far away by the gate to the junkyard and quickly took the opportunity to sneaked into the area through the part of there the metallic net of the perimeter fence had been broken by one of the posts. He quietly trotted through between the piles of scrapped cars stacked on top of each other. In his head, he remembered the route that he had memorized from the map over the yard that Lucas had managed to get hold of, and which the duck had stolen from his home, so he knew exactly which way to go. He had to act fast however, he didn't know how long Bud would be able to keep the guards distracted.

Bud had sure been surprised when he had heard what the drake had wished for in return for his favor.

"Wait? You want me to act as a salesman so you can break in _at the junkyard?!_ " he had asked exceedingly baffled.

"Yes, what, do you have a problem with that?" the mallard had asked snappish.

"Huh? Oh, no! Not at all really! It's rather the right opposite actually! I just got very surprised that's all. Hahaha! I did _not_ expect _you_ to be a kind of person who did stuff like _that_. Ahahaha!" the dog had laughed.

"Oh, believe me, there's _a lot_ _of_ things you don't know about me. So, are you going to help me or not?" Reginald had asked irritated, annoyed by not being taken serious.

"Haha! Well sure! I'm in! Seriously, this actually sounds like a fun thing!" he had said exited. "Heheh, out of everything you could have asked me to do in return I admit, this was _definitely_ outside of my box of thinking. And do you know what? I totally LOVE it! May I ask what your business in all of this is?"

"Hey, hey! Remember our deal? I stay out of your business and _you_ keep that big nose of yours away from mine. _Remember?_ " Reginald had invoked clever and steadfast.

"Wow… Man, you seriously knew how to take advantage of that. You know what? I think I'm actually starting to _like_ you", Bud had said impressed.

"Well, that's cute, but I'm not into that sort of stuff", the drake had said witty.

"Har de har! Well aren't you a laugh riot!" Bud had said sarcastic. "Um, just one question, about my part that is. What do you want me to sell?"

"Oh, I don't know! Sell some of your stupid bottle water… Or, you _could_ actually sell some of my crops. I've got a few to spare."

" _Or…_ what about _both…?_ " Bud had said, thoughtfully scratching his chin. "You know, this could actually be the perfect opportunity to test out my new business idea."

"Right, _your_ idea", the duck had muttered sarcastic. "Well, I don't care what you do, only if you can keep the guards busy for at least twenty minutes. I can purchase you with raw products if you so like."

"Ha! With _me_ on the job you can probably have the guards stalled for more than an _hour!_ " the dog had stated confidently.

They could only hope that that was true.

Reginald came to a large garage house inside the yard with plank walls painted in dark green, built to store specific put away vehicles. He walked up to a steel-door, which was designed for people to use, and pulled the handle. It was locked, of course, just as he had suspected. Without wasting any time, he took out the lock pick from his pocket and started picking the door lock.

He had trained a lot to find the right technique. However, this time it was a completely new lock he had to do with, and he was still just a rookie. It was more difficult than he had anticipated. He felt like he stood there for several minutes pressing, winkling, twisting, turning and pulling the thin pick in all different directions to make the flaps inside the lock to stand right. He pushed the door in with his shoulder in hope that that would make any difference, careful so the guards wouldn't hear.

"Come on, come on, come on, come _on!_ " he silently prayed for himself as he started feeling the panic wash over him. He didn't have time for this! In worst case, he would have to try to open the garage door. The problem there was that it probably would cause a lot more noise.

Suddenly, he felt the lock give way and turn to the side a little.

YES! Finally! Thank goodness, he thought, and felt such relief and euphory when he watched the lock humbly continue to follow the whole way around. He carefully opened the door and stepped inside while putting back the lock pick into his pocket. While walking at a brisk pace through the large, stale, poorly illuminated garage, he started looking for the registration number of Sullivan's car. He followed the lines of cars of different models, most of them in pretty bad shape, though some fairly well preserved, and read off their license plates. Some of them didn't have any.

After not too long, he finally found the director's car, a black BMW full of rust stains and dried seaweed hanging over the paint. Reginald had to struggle a little to open up the rusted door to the back seat, which inside welcomed him with a stench of saltwater and seaweed. He took out his flashlight from his pocket before crawling inside the car in search for Rhoda's button. He shone around in the interior after the small plastic piece and dug with his gloved hands between the still damp seats. All he found though however was sand, more dried seaweed and a dead crab to his despair. He started to panic again. He _had to_ find it!

He froze for a moment when an insight suddenly struck him. If Lucas wanted S.H.U.S.H. to believe Rhoda had _driven_ the car, how likely was it that he would find the evidence in the backseat?

"Not very likely", the duck answered himself and calmly crawled out again. No, Lucas hadn't been the kind of person who didn't think before he handled. If Reginald wanted to find the button, he would have to _think_ like Lucas. Lucas wanted to make people believe that she actually _drove_ Sullivan's car. So, where would he most likely have placed the button?

"In the driver's seat of course."

Calmly he walked around the car and opened the door to the seat by the driver's side. That door was easier to open. While he stood there and shone in with his flashlight, he thought for a moment. Now, what was it that he had said?

Reginald thought back on that stormy day when Lucas had been at his home in his greenhouse.

 _"I hid it somewhere where people normally don't look."_

Of course! Since Lucas placed out the button first _after_ the agency already had ransacked the vehicle, it's not particularly likely that he would find it just lying on the floor or between the seat cushions or like that. He had to think one step further.

The drake pulled the car seat as far back as possible and then bowed down to search around among the three pedals. He felt with his hand if there was something stuck behind them, but found nothing. After giving up the search there, he stood up again and pulled the seat back and forth to check by the rails. Nothing there either.

Sighing, he rested his elbow against the car roof and placed his cheek in his hand.

"Think, Reggie, think!" he muttered a bit stressed to himself while lightly knocking his forehead with the torch.

After a while, he finally decided to get inside and sit down in the seat, hoping that that may give him any ideas.

"Okay, _where_ in here would a cop _not_ look?" he asked out loud and gazed around over the interior, from the tachometer to the gear lever and on to the empty space where the removed radio would have been.

He suddenly found himself keep staring at the dark horizontal slots to the ventilation system. Do cops have the habit of checking those? He leaned forward and tried to peer into the vent on the driver's side's right side in the gleam of the flashlight. That apparently turned out to be quite troublesome, partly because the steering wheel was partially in the way and partly because the vertical-going rudder blades, which was meant to lead the air in wanted direction, had to be adjusted in the right angle so he could see anything at all. Through the grid, he tried to follow the light to at least get an idea of how deep the space was, it was about five inches deep. A lot of green-algae was seen as small green spots on the walls inside. It was still difficult to see properly though since the rudder flaps shaded too much. He tried to shine in through the bottom slot with his flashlight angled slightly upwards to carefully check the bottom for loose items. He found nothing.

He decided to check the vent to the left too, which turned out to be even _more_ difficult because now the steering wheel was on his right side, and he was right-handed. With the torch in his left hand, he shone in and searched the interior.

There it was! THERE IT WAS!

He could hardly believe it, but there near the bottom in the middle lie the small round brown-beige disc with the four holes in the center. He had actually _found_ it! But now he was faced before a new problem, how was he going to get it out? He needed something long and narrow.

A light came up over him when he suddenly realized that he could use the lock pick to get it out. He hauled out the small metal stick from his pocket again. Then he leaned over with his right arm resting on top of the steering wheel to hold the flashlight, careful not to accidentally press the horn (That would have been JUST WONDERFUL!), and tried to use his left hand to reach the button with the pick. It didn't work particularly well since he's not left-handed. He therefore chose to change the position of the two objects in his hands and tried to reach it by placing the right hand, in which he now was holding the lock pick, through the hole in the steering wheel. That didn't work very effective either. CURSED STEERING WHEEL!

He finally managed to find a somewhat good position to work in and started first to try to push the button with he lock pick right next to the wall so that he could get behind it and shuffle it out. However, the rudder flaps were too long and were placed too tight for that to work. He therefore instead tried to place the pick on top of the small plastic disc and press and pull it out, but the slit was too narrow for the stick to be abled to be tilted up enough for that.

No… Not now!

In despair he leaned his forehead against the steering wheel rim. Not now when he was so close!

No! He couldn't afford breaking down now. He had to figure out another method to get it out.

He looked around in the car for something else he could use. The seaweed maybe? No, that was too floppy. Did he have anything else on him? Something long, thin and bendable yet rigid?

"Hm… maybe…"

He started fumbling around with his hand among his feathers by the rump. He took a deep breath before quickly pulling off one of his tail feathers. The short sticking pain made him grimaced a little. He regarded the loose white feather, which was about as long as the lock pick. Then he bent the quill on a few places so it got the shape of a hook, a pretty angular hook. He then pressed the feather into the lower spring of the vent and placed the curved portion around the button and pulled gently.

The joy in him was indescribable as he watched through the white tousled vane (the soft part of the feather) the small object follow out without any troubles through the slot and down to the floor. Overjoyed and relieved, he picked up the tiny button and raised it victorious in the air.

"YES! I _made it!_ " he couldn't help but to happy cheer for himself, not too loud though in case anyone would hear him. It was all finally over now! Everything was over! Okay, _almost_ everything, the only thing that remained now was for him to get out of there without anyone noticing him.

He put back the lock pick and the flashlight plus the button and the now wrinkled feather into his pockets, made sure that he didn't left anything behind, closed the door to Sullivan's car and went back the same way he had come from.

Bud was still busy distracting the workers when Reginald managed to leave the yard through the net. Apparently he _did_ put the right man on the job. The mallard signaled to him that he was finished simply by calm and untroubled walk along the fence outside the yard and let the dog see him. Bud, who had been let in at the yard, had apparently been so caught up in his job that it took the canine a while before he even noticed his duck companion through the metal net a few feet away behind the customers' backs.

"Well, I think it's time for me to thank you all for your cooperation and wish you all a good day", the dog finally said after the payment was completed and left the yard together with his now emptied sales wagon, which he had brought with him.

The two copartners met up a little farther away by a grove of trees close to the beach.

"Well, how did it go?" Bud asked curious.

"Swimmingly!" Reginald told pleased.

"You got what you wanted?"

"I got _exactly_ what I wanted", the drake announced and contentedly felt the small button with his hand resting in his pocket. "How did your part go? Any troubles?"

"Ha! Are you kidding? I made a KILLING here!" the dog told and proudly pulled the index finger across the short side of the thick bundle of green bills in his hand, making the thin bills flap.

"Eh… okay…", Reginald mumbled, kind of disturbed by the dog's choice of word. "Well, good for you."

"Aaaand…", Bud added suddenly and separated a few of the bills from the bundle, "since you kind of contributed with some of the raw material I guess you got right to at least _some_ of the profit. Whole ten percent!"

The dog held out the couple of banknotes towards him.

"TEN PERCENT?! Are you out of your gourd?! That's like nothing!" the duck exclaimed displeased.

"Hey, believe me, in the big business ten percent is nothing to sneeze at", Bud defended.

"Oh yeah? Well, _I_ call it unfair distribution! But it doesn't matter, I don't want any of your money anyway", Reginald said. He didn't want to make any financial gain in all of this, not after everything he had done. The reason he'd just committed several serious crimes had not simple been to make a greedily profit. He had done it to save an innocent life and to reclaim back his own freedom. Accepting the money would just have been cowardly and wrong. Right now, all he wanted was to live on like this whole event never even happened.

"Okay, if that's what you want. Heh! I don't mind", Bud said and shrugged as he contentedly placed the bills back in the bundle again before putting it all in his pocket.

They followed the sidewalk that went along the beach a couple of feet in.

"You know, this was actually a whole lot of fun! There doesn't happen to be any _more_ places you'd like to break in at?" Bud asked all psyched up.

"No, I got _just_ what I wanted and I'm perfectly happy with that", Reginald said satisfied and discreetly picked up the tiny button from his pocket and looked regardfully at it.

"Ah, man! And I who was on a roll here", Bud groaned a bit disappointed.

The duck let the disc roll between his thumb and index finger, feeling his nail rolling down into a tiny notch in the rim and getting stuck a little.

"Wait a minute…"

Reginald stopped walking abruptly and lifted the button closer to his eyes to study it better. He let the nail roll down into the notch again and again. It seemed familiar…

Anxiously, he slowly lifted his other hand and fumbled after the top button on the collar to his own shirt. The one he normally never buttons…

"What is it?" Bud, who had kept walking a bit in front of him, asked. The dog stopped and turned around toward the duck that stood as petrified with his bill half-open and his wide eyes staring out into nothingness, his hand still by the collar.

"Nothing", Reginald claimed hasty and continued walking while quickly putting back the button into his pocket, avoiding the dog's eyes.

"You know what? You and I are a pretty good team, aren't we?" Bud said. "We should do more business together!"

"Uh-huh", Reginald mumbled, quite uninterested.

"I'm serious. Really. With your brain and my incredible talent for trading and communication, I bet we could achieve great things and become filthy rich!" the excited dog said convinced. "I can see it all before me. Flud and Bushroot." Bud lifted his hand and dreamily brought it across the sky before them. "Together we could probably rule whole St. Canard!"

The drake smiled and was almost about to laugh at the dog's ridiculously unrealistic ambition.

"I don't really know if _'ruling'_ is my thing", he said quite amused.

"Ah, come on! Who wouldn't want that?" Bud wondered. "I know you're a hippie and such, but you're different from the others. You're more… interesting. I may not know exactly what it's all about, but you've obviously got some dark secrets and hidden talents that you don't want to let me in on. And I respect that. I think you are less harmless than you seem."

"Well, I guess I can say if I _would_ be the ruler of St. Canard, things would _definitely_ change around here for the better", Reginald said cocky, a bit half-joking.

A little pink plastic bag blew in towards them from the beach and almost hit their calves.

"And I guess the _first_ thing I would do is to make sure that people _stop_ treating nature like a public trash can", the mallard added low as he wroth followed the bag continuing blowing down the way with his eyes.

"Hahaha! Well, you have to start _somewhere_ ", Bud laughed.

Reginald looked out towards the river to the left. The strong reflecting sunlight glittered like rhinestones on the rippling water surface. To the right, he saw Audubon Bay Bridge, which they were only but less than a mile away from, extend across the broad river towards the suburban areas on the other side. The sun stood high up on the sky and its light was partly obscured behind one of the pylons, making it look like a halo was surrounding the left top tower. He felt a relatively strong gust of wind sweeping in from behind them and ruffled his hair. The sound of a buzzing helicopter was heard and shortly there after, the duo watched the red vehicle against the clear blue sky fly over the beach and out towards the sea.

"Hey, Bud", Reginald suddenly said thoughtfully, "I think I'll take those ten percent anyway."

* * *

 _ **THE END**_

 _ **This was the last chapter of this story. A big thanks to you who have read through all of this! And I ESPECIALLY want to thank YOU, acosta perez jose ramiro, for reviewing every chapter! Your comments really make me happy, and it helps me to want to keep writing.**_

 _ **Keep the good reviewing.**_


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